CRAFT

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Click the link for your listening pleasure:

HOWL  by Allen Ginsberg

“…who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together…
…to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,
THE MADMAN BUM AND ANGEL BEAT IN TIME, UNKNOWN, YET PUTTING DOWN HERE WHAT MIGHT BE LEFT TO SAY IN TIME COME AFTER DEATH…”

I’ve extended myself across several blogs, trying to see what parts of my work fit together and what needs to stand alone.  Some of my material is pretty heavy, as I don’t censor myself what-so-ever, but I try not to overindulge or get “floofy” on the subject, emotion, or issue.  For some of my pieces, I have taken my mental illnesses/disorders and used them as if they were stolen from somebody else.  When I write it is not confessional but rather matter-of-fact and brutal truth.  I want others to actually feel what it’s like to actual ly have PTSD, biplar disorder, depersonalization disorder, adhd, and dissociative disorder.  I want my reader to feel the guts of it–all the ugly and beautiful parts of them all–as I would for any type of piece I write.  I’m seeking a truth that all  my pieces hint at that I can’t quite grasp, so I keep writing.  I’m by no means advocating, but somehow I am.  I contradict myself, yes.  My blogs are not journals or pity parties or outlets–they’re simply a method for me to see where I am going with my writing.  My entire focus is on the craft.  And my craft is in these tiny little places on the net that really go out to me and my family, who have only ever understood me through my writing (and I guess I’ve only understood myself that way as well).  I guess, more than I realize, writing is healing me.  Strange how life works that way.

Writing Thru Complex PTSD

Sartre

Difficult Degrees (here)

*****

Words are the physicians of a mind diseased. —Aeschylus

6 thoughts on “CRAFT

  1. i share a number of these plights with you but know that we empower ourselves by giving the lie to the idea that we are weak or less than anyone. xxxj

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  2. I like you battle with many of the same conditions. I like you refuse to sugar coat it and instead accurately reflect what I am going through. I admire your courage and your strength. Keep writing. You are amazing.

    Love and Light,

    Sender

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  3. These are powerful and humane sentiments. As Adorno says, “The need to lend voice to suffering is the condition of all truth: for suffering is objectivity that weights on the subject”: but it is not just suffering for him, it was the particularity of human experience, and it demands its own language, which you give it – and I see mental illness as inflamed instances of the more or less conscious, more or less painful psychosocial tensions we are all subject to – hence the humane significance of this honesty.

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