January 15, 2011
i have been thinking about the deeper meaning of my latest poetry book entitled A Love Song for an Inked Doll and the how and why and what of it. this analysis is so interesting to me because it always leads to a conclusion i know about myself. i can do whatever i want because the mind is just energy and energy can be translated from state to state like the excitation of quantized levels.
a little over a year ago i needed to believe i could love again; i just wanted to feel again because the previous year i felt i was numb and the previous fours years i had my life force systematically drained out of me. so i started to write these poems in the first person initially to a beautiful woman i wanted to love. like yeah you can just choose someone to open your heart too. so the book was born and i kept finding that the words were flowing and that i was winning her with them. then i found i was not and in my normal fashion i just kept walking and writing and imaging a beautiful inked doll who i loved. always in this first person directly to her, for her and because of her.
i kept believing that hope came in the form of love for a soul mate, an equal partner in crime. i kept writing and writing and someone from across time and space suddenly appeared and my creative spark burned hotter till she burned up and i retreated back into my art, finished the book and kept working on the next one entitled An Instance of Emo. so, what does it mean and why do i always end on the same answer.
i write pretty words that make the ladies swoon. i am not really available though, as much as i wish i were, i believe in a soul mate as a means of motivation and the inspirational muse of creativity. in all of my life relationships always loose out to my art, the stress created by my intense single minded work ethic and the energy it takes to harness my mania and use it for all of the six things i am excellent at. it takes a rare and unique woman who understands that and does not take it as a reflection on themselves, a strong self aware woman, and they are as rare a bread as me.