Speedball thoughts

***imagine these words in the voice of the derainged fairy that lives in my head***

rolling, rolling, rolling…
growth, personal growth, expanding, enlightening, realizing…
the process of … what… Growing Up? Figuring Your Shit Out? Deprogramming Internalized Oppression?

Thoughts, speedball thoughts? all the time, thoughts, watching the stream of my consciousness flow by… but that sound peacefull… this is anything but peaceful, well sometimes it is, but often it’s more like watching a raging torrent of a waterfall, and there’s SO MANY THINGS TO SEE… so many ideas, fish to catch, plants to harvest from the riverbanks, technology to learn from watching the patterns of the flow…

Sometimes so many thoughts bouncing around and clamboring to get out, run around, be free! So many, too many, they get in each other’s way and get stuck in the door, and it all comes out in one big messs. BLEGH. Idea vommit. Or Diarheah. Sometimes they might be an idea baby… but those are extra big and special, not ready for idea babies yet… or maybe just, still incubating…

But the creativity constipation… OH GOD, IT HURTS! Sometimes inside my head it’s like watching TV… And let me tell you, it’s good programming. If only the thoghts in my head were on TV! Or at least written-down, in a book, or painted, drawn… if only. But there’s just this big, giant, turd of constipated blockage in the way… SO MANY IDEAS, DON’T KNOW WHERE TO START, oh god, can’t choose… if I try to focus on one, this other one screams at me for attention… SO MUCH CLAMBORING… i just need time!

Time, time, time, where’s the time? Time at work, this stupid job, keeps getting in my way, stealing all the time, I DON’T HAVE ANY TIME TO WORK – i mean real work, The Work, chipping away at that giant constipation turd, in spare time, in little bits, between the cracks, like weeds pushing their way up through the cracks in the concrete, living ivy slowly tearing down a brick wall… but I amย not a patient person. I WANT IT NOW! It huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurts… this creativity constipation. It buuuuuuuuuuuuuuurns…

My creativity demands Prime Time, it demands Full Time, it demands focus, attention, it demands TIME. DO IT, DO IT NOW, WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WHY AREN’T YOU DOING YOUR ART… There was time… a long time… didn’t have a job, had all the time in the world then… over a year, then… and YOU DIDN’T DO IT… you didn’t take advantage of your opportunities… YOU DON’T DESERVE IT, you weren’t ready… not ready… it’s okay, i was busy, busy healing, so much healing, finding the edgues, excavating the excess baggage, jettesoning all of the SHOULDS i was carrying around, other people’s shoulds, GET YOUR SHOULDS OFF OF ME, ALL SHOULDS MUST GO! wait, no, itsn’t this one important??? WELL MAYBE… NO! NO! NO! ALL SHOULDS MUST GO! Need to find the edges, need to figure out what’s me and what’s everything else… SO MUCH HEALING WAS NEEDED… I was busy, really busy, working really hard… and I did soooooo much! Personal Growth, Expansion, learning how to manipulate space and time…

Time! time, time, time… holy shit… holy shit… learning how to manipualte time, how to manifest, how to become the dreams that haunt my thoughts… Now I’m ready. The thoughts are clearer, I’m calmer, I can see cohisive narratives in the flow, can see the overarching theme, can follow the eddies of subplots and side characters, can enter and embody various narratives at will, as suits my needs… I’m ready. I’m scared, intimidated, terrified, but ready, i think? But there’s still this stupid job… hanging on, like the last snapping dog of the of the prison guards, locked onto my leg, digging in… but i need their money. can’t get far without their money, so i endure, while the vile beast continues to knaw at my leg, I am calmly making sure to get what i need before i run.

Just breathe. Not long now, just breathe. Just keep breathing, just keep breathing, Soon, any moment, I’ll be ready to fly…


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