The First Inklings of an Outpouring
I wish you would be cruel to me. Harass me, belittle me, use me, hurt me. The most painful gift you have ever given me is your kindness. I want to hate you, but I can’t.
The above has sat here for a while, written to every woman I had pined for. I should write more about it, but I can’t. My writing has mostly left me lately. It’s not that I am uninspired, it is that I can’t seem to make anything coherent. I have bits and pieces, but no cohesion. It is all just spattered across the page, waiting for clarity. I’ve even had trouble drawing lately. Work has been stressful. The new position is much more than I expected.
I’ve been thinking about love a lot, though that is nothing new. What is new is how I have been thinking about it. Rather than just pining painfully for it, I have been trying to figure out what it is I want and what it is I think love is. I have come to some conclusions but I have raised more answers than anything else. I know now that one of thing biggest things I want is to be held. I don’t think a woman has ever held me. It seems awkward, considering my size, but it is not so unreasonable.
I don’t know. As my words fail me, my art grows. This past week I have been working on a new piece. It is a continuation of the series I have done previously, but it is also a huge growth. I worked on learning an entirely new style based on the Japanese ink drawings of waves. It is my take on it and I enjoyed doing it. I don’t have much to say, really. I think the piece speaks for itself. As for the rest of the stuff I have talked about here, there’s a real blog post about it to come at some point, but I have no idea when.