The Need for Creativity
I write because I have the need for creativity. There is a strong desire in me to pull the thoughts from my brain out, turn them around, examine them, and then spill them onto paper for others. Sometimes the thoughts are there raging, searching for the paper, and other times I have to coax them out of the corners of my mind like shivering scared animals. Sometimes I write as devotion and sometimes I write because I just have the desire, the burn, but no matter what I am writing I am always writing for me too because when you break me down I am words.
That’s why I identify with Silver Tongue. I AM WORDS. I may not have the tact to wield them well at all times, but they’re there.
When I talk about writing I talk about me because I’m in the mix. The ideas are mine, even when they’re building on other ideas I’ve seen and read anything that comes out of my brain is revamped and remixed with a piece of my soul in it. Even when it’s bad it’s mine. When it’s good it’s mine. There’s nothing of my words that aren’t filtered through me at least a little bit. Sometimes I write something and don’t really believe it or it feels like it came from somewhere or someone else, even though it is filtered through me, and then I feel more like I’m pulling on the other side-pulling on the spirit realm or that place where all ideas hang out in a hazy fog like the Greeks of Old imagined. Perfect ideas just waiting to be discovered, downloaded, into our primitive brain. And that is an act of adoration of the divine for me-when I have the chills as I write and realize I’m writing something that for me, at least, is an unrevealed Truth of the universe. There are times when I write and I feel I’ve tapped into GOD or a god or something bigger than myself.
I write because I must and I write because I want to and I write because my life wouldn’t be the same without it. I write for people when I love them. I write for my Gods because I love them. When I write, especially for someone, it is an act of love, and quite often this goes unregistered on Mundania, in the real world, and it’s seen as a self indulgence and an act of self centered mental masturbation, but
I write because my core being has words swirling in it.