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I ... haven't really been able to write, lately. I'm not quite sure why. I've just ... There's been this kind of ... luminous blankness? Full of the shadows of ideas, flickering things, there and gone again. Nothing concrete, nothing translatable. Nothing you could make words out of.
I've had this before. It's probably actually somewhat of a bad sign, in that long periods of this, of the kind of on-the-cusp reaching for half-felt, vivid imaginings, usually indicates a downturn on the way. It's a bit like the high before the crash, though I probably don't have to properly worry unless I start getting euphoric flashes and moments of universal alignment. It's just ... when the world gets a bit more stretched and vivid, and full of shadowed things, I'm usually reaching too far, and about to fall. *shrugs*
It's just ... kind of a shame, in a lot of ways. Frustrating, you know? It's the half-way place, the moment of hovering just within the upper edges of the cloud-cover, before bursting out into the upper sunlight. You see things, here, or catch the edges of them, and it's ... Just that little higher, that little further, and you could see them, they would be ... so vivid, so real, but ... well, that's about where Icarus's wings begin to melt, isn't it? *smiles ruefully*
I hate the falling part. I don't want to hit the falling part. But it's that moment, the moment just before, when gravity catches hold but doesn't yet cast down, when things are clear. When things resolve into something usable, something understandable. This, the half-way place, the reaching place, is too full of shadows and half-done thoughts. It's too intangible and too crowded, and nothing manifests itself here. Just shadows of thoughts, out of the corner of your eye. A luminous blankness. *sighs*
I've had this before. It's probably actually somewhat of a bad sign, in that long periods of this, of the kind of on-the-cusp reaching for half-felt, vivid imaginings, usually indicates a downturn on the way. It's a bit like the high before the crash, though I probably don't have to properly worry unless I start getting euphoric flashes and moments of universal alignment. It's just ... when the world gets a bit more stretched and vivid, and full of shadowed things, I'm usually reaching too far, and about to fall. *shrugs*
It's just ... kind of a shame, in a lot of ways. Frustrating, you know? It's the half-way place, the moment of hovering just within the upper edges of the cloud-cover, before bursting out into the upper sunlight. You see things, here, or catch the edges of them, and it's ... Just that little higher, that little further, and you could see them, they would be ... so vivid, so real, but ... well, that's about where Icarus's wings begin to melt, isn't it? *smiles ruefully*
I hate the falling part. I don't want to hit the falling part. But it's that moment, the moment just before, when gravity catches hold but doesn't yet cast down, when things are clear. When things resolve into something usable, something understandable. This, the half-way place, the reaching place, is too full of shadows and half-done thoughts. It's too intangible and too crowded, and nothing manifests itself here. Just shadows of thoughts, out of the corner of your eye. A luminous blankness. *sighs*
