When a fool creates

Thanks for reading my latest piece of fiction; I was surprised about the blog hits. Thank you.

No, it’s not autobiographical. I never studied medicine, either. Would I be booking coaches at a travel agency if I had studied medicine? I guess so because patients would have died on my table, and you’re right; life’s too short to be collecting more guilty conscience. I still attempt to eliminate them on paper. They slip through my fingertips.

Do you know why writers have it so bad? Did you know that when Bukowski wrote the screenplay for Barfly, he pretty much earned nothing? Fucking Mickey Rourke got the most money for simply pretending to be Buk on the screen. Throughout my entire life, I’ve refused to put my belief in pretense. But acting is art; it depends on how it comes across and how you view it. To me, acting is not creation, but it helps distribute the creation, and it receives a universal identity.

Approach.

The way you approach that piece of the creation is also crucial, as it tells us about you. At least it should. I liked someone a year ago who was fascinated by creations and studied them like there was nothing better to do. He would debate their meanings, analyse the creator’s intentions and apply the values to the world we live in, but never would he tell me what those creations meant to him, how they shaped him and what he wanted out of them. All I knew was that he was running away from something, but most of all, he created something. The only pity was that he didn’t show it to me. He was a number 3 (if you care about numerology), therefore one of the creative.

Do you prefer odd or even numbers? Odd numbers, of course. Imagine they’re people, and you pair them up. One of them will always stand out, and that’ll be you because you suck.
You suck because you believe in something more significant. You were born to think for yourself, have your way and delve into your creativity, as you think we are here to create and share.

But why, of all people, is the creator the one who is alone? Of course, you accuse him of pushing people away and that it’s his own fault, but here it goes, you’re the one that lacks understanding. You know shit about this person’s needs. I admit he’s not easy to deal with, but he has energies to release, and if you get too close, those energies will harm you. He knows it. Can’t you see that he’s only trying to protect you from him?

Of course not; creative people are the most selfish of all people.

Maybe I should set my quest to finding the stranger who secretly drew me at the cafe upstairs at Foyle’s. For a moment, I felt special. I wondered whether I should sit still or play with my hair. That was a pleasant conversation–a conversation through observatory power. Talking is overrated.

Or maybe I should continue dreaming about good-looking men who don’t speak.

Another quest is to go to Montreal to find a guy called Matt, whose surname is unknown to me. The only thing I know about him is that he is Cancerian, too, and that he builds a tent in less than five minutes. The only thing he gave me was the collection of Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, which I still haven’t read. Sometimes I look through each page to check whether he has left me any notes. He was one of the few who looked at me and understood me right away.

They say I tend to set goals that are out of reach. What’s going to happen once you’ve attained your goal, which was only within arm’s length?

How can you be so unadventurous? Get married and stay away from me.

Dreams remain dreams if you quit making them happen. I don’t know why people lack motivation.

Perhaps if a dream comes true, it’ll never the way you expect it to be. After all, it’s the feeling of yearning that counts and NOT fulfillment because it doesn’t exist. A human being is a creature that wants it all. The less we get, the better. Give the child a toy, and it will want another.

Create something that you can’t be, and there you go, you have a dream, a fool’s dream, which will outlive everything you ever wanted.

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