An Invocation for Beginnings
Let me not think of my work only as a stepping stone to something else, and if it is let me become fascinated by the shape of the stone. -ZeFrank
well, well said
How inspiration comes:
Once you catch and properly seduces your muse, you bring her over to the table where you do your writing, clear out all the junk you penned earlier and the two of you start fucking,excusez mon langage,making love and going in and out, in and out, in and out, and you don’t stop until she sees the universe in her eyes and you see it in hers…
Octavia Butler (via inspired-to-write)
I hope so
It could be true also the other way. Little by little, little becomes less until nothing.
DON’T YOU DARE STOP TRYING!!
I have been hearing it in my head and I felt like sharing…
There’s a river in me that I find sometimes and makes me feel like a little god. Today, I realized that the sound of water in the shower, repetitive tunes, annoying people, the sound of her breath, help me tap into it.
All I just have to do is open wide and watch the miracle happen, it might come in drips, but if I give it a good shake, I might end up with an ocean.
I finally found my muse, she was prowling in the streets. I always passed her by on my way to my braindead job or as I returned from another wasted meeting with people with no ambition or goals.
Yes this writing is easy…Once this muse mounts on top of you and make you beg for it and all you want is to die once, twice, and forever more.
Today I grabbed hold of her neck, wrapped my thighs around her and whispered into her ears: My turn…
Despite all the digging, the fiery desire and the burning wants, she kept teasing me: Is that all you got?
I’m her slave. She’s my slave. One flesh, two insatiable souls battling over it.