|Don't dream it, be it.
||[Sep. 24th, 2005|11:31 am]
The Magical Universe
|||||Bury Me-Smashing Pumpkins-Gish||]|
So I have outlines for multiple novels on multiple pages of multicolored paper. They [the pages] don't really comprise anything resembling pieces of book. The required triangular (?) plot structure isn't there and really never should be. That they resemble the majority of the traditional structure isn't really that important (a lot of books don't), but it does seem necessary that a resolution should be possible. How is a resolution possible? This is not writer's block; it is a conflict of interests. I realize that there are "real novels" that lack a [satisfactory] resolution, but you know that is not what I am referring to. I possess the technical knowledge, technical skill, hell even "style" and creativity... blah, blah. I could (probably) resolve the conflict of interests and write two novels in one. This is the "problem" of my life. Is it enough to call forth past experience or must I relive it and, if so, is that a choice that I am willing to make? Writing, "art," all of that is secondary/symptomatic of something else (as is everything, as are words, as is language comprised of symbols).
When I was fifteen I freaked out when I comprehended. I wrote that experience down and made it public. A channel of communication occurred and I became distracted from the point for too long. I associated myself too much with someone who was wrong. This is the first time that I have admitted that he was wrong. Ok, but the real thing is my inability to find a middle. Is this the middle? Is it all or nothing or can I insist on everything? I was upset the first time that I realized that I could not not exist. Regardless of what objective reality is, this remains true: *I* cannot not exist. So demand everything. Somehow I'm not sure if demanding everything should involve the six syllabi pinned to my wall. But somehow it seems that if I really choose everything that annotated bibliographies must be as necessary as sex with a homeless drug addict in the restroom of a residency hotel, right? Right.