Went to an Italian restaurant last week and experienced something weird. I went to the toilet and smelt a smell and it reminded me of really old buildings when I was little in the UK. I mean weird how just something would make you think about something totally far away in place and time. It's not a smelly smell or anything. Was maybe what they used to wash the toilet or that the toilet is old and the smell of the piping and stuff. But had me thinking of the old museum buildings or some buildings in the UK, they have that smell. I can't really remember it now seeing that it was last week. Well, it's something like a musky smell sort of a corner that hadn't been aired but or something. I don't know.
Anywho, right before dinner just now I had a nap. Then woke up and it was dinnertime. Has beef steak for dinner and don't know. Might head was in a weird place. I was eating and felt very attuned to what I was doing, as in very. Like every bit of cut I did. I very intently saw the cuts I did and when I put it in my mouth, the taste, I really tasted it. But as I got a bit more clear-headed that feeling went away. I felt very small and then very large. And where I was. I don't know what I'm talking about.
Just now I thought about a moment some time when I just moved to Miri from Bintulu. I remember I was at home, I just watched Ghost Whisperer or something and I remember it was because I thought Angel was on. So I turned the tv off, and Angel was on after which I watched. I remember the fluorescent light in the bedroom. I remember sometimes the pulsating of light, big and small when I'm half awake. When I look at my mom or dad or my sisters and they are talking to me, I remember their head getting big and small. It was funny. I still experience that when I'm sleepy and am trying to stay awake, things start to get big and small.
I'm going to continue writing more now. My excuse for not was that I was really busy approaching end of semester which is true to a certain degree but well, in the evenings I watch tele or do nothing anyways. So that's sort of a non-excuse. I find writing as cathartic as droning in front of the TV anyways. So might as well write. So tonight I wrote. Also, I find not writing for too long will start to corrode and erode the attractiveness and willingness of writing. But once I wrote again, it felt right. It puts the mind in that frame where creativity could blossom and I believe that release of possibility would do my work good. So write on, and write lots. Some writers speak of writer's block. I think that only occurs if one stops writing for too long in the first place, because then you will stop thinking about what to write. I don't believe in waiting for inspiration to strike, I believe in creating inspiration. When I have nothing to write, I just start writing. And from that something always comes out. And it is usually good, usually better when I have an idea then when I write it down, it comes out not really to my liking. Anyways, what I'm saying is even if it's good or bad at least writing it down creates something physical, something real. And so even though it may not be pretty, it is real. And I could always go back and fix it and make it better. One fear I had with this (and sort of still have), is having written something down you push the story in a certain direction which would be very difficult to change later. This is because you have invested the train of thought in that direction and your mind frame could not be readjusted to the other possibilities (perhaps unconsciously), that it creates a mental block in that sense. Well, at the moment for me it's damage limitation. Because if I don't writing ANYTHING in the first place, the story is not there to begin with to be judged as so. And thus I feel even crappier that I have this idea and it never comes to fruition. I think I just need to get over my fear of the story being no good, and just write it and see if it's good or not. And even if it sucks, at least it's written and I can analyze the suckiness. Yes, I make up words.
Anyways, back to memory recesses. Now is now. Then was then. I could never remember then, and these triggers I experience sometimes, they come in fleeting very sparingly, they are interesting. How the brain functions, I believe I have forgotten about lots of stuff, but it's all there stored in the recesses. I guess it's all there, and good for my writing that they come as little surprises to my sense sometimes.
