My break from school has been kind to me thus far. With the exception of being a bit ill today and yesterday, that is.
I feel much better now. If I am not well at nearly three in the morning I don't know when I will ever be well. I've always appreciated the mystic quality of staying up late. Everything is filled with a kind of creative miasmic haze that spurs people ever quickly to their own dreams. That's how I feel about it, at any rate, and if you don't well... Perhaps you're missing out a bit. You really ought to try this up-all-night artsy thing. It does wonders, I assure you.
Talked a lot about starting a band today. I am not sure if it's actually likely to happen any time soon, given vehicular constraints, people's schedules and just how much fucking space instruments actually take up. I am assured in myself of the certainty of starting a band EVENTUALLY but perhaps not just now. I am not one to enjoy the promise of eventuality in anything and am famed for forcing such things to happen if need be. I just hope I can make the sort of music I'd enjoy listening to. That's always the issue, I've found in my attempts to start a band, people wanting to go in different directions, hating me for being dedicated to actually being able to play my instrument and desiring a very guitar-heavy sound for any band in which I take part, not enjoying the lyrics I write for said band or any number of concerns that arise. I don't see any issue personally with wanting to enjoy playing my instrument on stage or with the lyrics I write or with any of my designs, really, especially because I am willing to compromise to a point. I guess we'll have to just wait and see. I've been talking to people and hope something of note actually transpires.
I spent a good portion of today writing more of my novel, including a largely combat-based section which turned out well, at least in my approximation of my own work which is usually unnecessarily harsh, and for that I am glad. I also tried my hand at some ambient guitar work, which proved fruitful, and listened to some new experimental folk music a friend guided me to this evening. For being so sick as I was earlier, a number of symptoms culminating in me calling off work for being unable to deal with them, I managed to have a pretty fruitful day. I even got a healthy bit of reading done, both fiction and non. This is good for me, I say.
This being my last summer, Leah and I are really working hard at making it memorable. Already in the next few weeks we have two concerts to attend. One of which being the long-anticipated performance of The Machine, having been delayed due to the massive snowpocalypse we endured earlier this year and the second of which being a trip out to the symphony to enjoy some Beethoven. This latter one is both an excuse to get some culture with a surprisingly large group of friends and to dress up in clothes I rarely get to wear. This is excellent all around.
I keep reminding myself that every word I write, be it of the magic in mundane life or of the majesty of sunlight playing chlorophyl-green through the leaves of the trees in my backyard as I sit on a wooden bench with an acoustic guitar, brings me closer to my goal of becoming a truly great wordsmith. Everything in this life, even the things in which we find we have natural talent, are only brought to true, timeless greatness by our blood and trial of constant practice. I've had to learn this many times in my life and this skill, hopefully the skill to carry me through the rest of my days, is no exception.
There are so many people in this world who survive off of creative means and each one gives me hope for the future. It does lead to some thoughts of regret regarding my attending college at all but, at the end of the day, it gives me another leg-up in the world. Two degrees from a private university won't hurt me at all, certainly. Plus the people I've met and the experiences I've garnered from such a place really did a lot to change me. Even the slander people I once called friend throw on me, even the questions as to my sanity and even the outright turning of backs to me in times of need I've suffered in the last four years has done a lot to shape me in a positive way.
It's taught me that the friends who don't accept my very literal belief in Faerie Tales can all kindly have their faces caved in by my dick. Some people live exceptional lives and I am numbered among them. My life has been truly blessed by whatever higher power(s) exist to have some people in my life who don't question, or question very seldom, the validity of my claims. They really are brave souls who accept the Romantic Ideal as I live it, sometimes even living it in part or in whole themselves. Those people are the ones I thank from the bottom of my heart of hearts. I have also learned that some of my life is best not discussed with people as it is asking a bit much of them to believe what is true. Even those in my life well equipped to understand and accept what I know to be true are not necessarily practiced in that acceptance and I need to remember this.
Yours in Unapologetic Mysticism,