your writing feels very staccato. there’s this ominous quality to it, especially with this piece, almost sinister.
i’d heard that before. the staccato part, at least.
the ominous and slightly sinister part slips out, sometimes unexpectedly when i find myself recalling family memories.
i think i hold grudges. need to let things go. i wish my memory wasn’t so vivid, i think i’d sleep more. double-sword, isn’t?
if i slept more, i wouldn’t have time to get up in the middle of the night and scribble thoughts into my bedside notebook. i woke up this morning with “i still feel – kind of temporary about myself” staring back at me in pencil, then again with blue pen. i had just gone to see death of a salesman on the weekend. that arthur miller, food for thought.
do you ever get that feeling? t-e-m-p-o-r-a-r-y.
i do. a lot. but not in the extreme way it’s used in this play. i see it more as a positive, but perhaps this is because i see temporary more as restless. and i see restless more a built up of creative energy, and i see…oh, stop me if you think you’ve heard this before…
a line or phrase, you’ve read/watched/overheard that struck a cord in you recently?