I'll taste the darker stuff to find some lasting truth

Murakami
going into the dark place balancing with spending time running in the sunshine
work hard to like, love someone and then their story becomes interesting
up at 4am in the dark quiet alone to write
like video games (half player half programmer) reach out and grab the thoughts
Dostoyevsky (has read bros K 4x) and Beck
must write it before it comes to be/becomes real. talking about it is venting so that you can process, but cannot process or assimilate until write it


like raw better than the apathy of comfort
enemy of all that numbs
(the pleasure that my sadness brings?)
"sometimes the hurt is so deep.... you thing that you're gonna drown. sometimes all i can do is weep...."