what you reject today, you may miss tomorrow
on the importance of not erasing your writing or throwing away art
It has to go somewhere, does it not? These creations that are channeled through us, we are the instruments. It is not always up to us to judge their purpose, or anything about it at all.
I learned the hard way NEVER to delete songs. The internet makes that so easy. We’re not printing hard copy albums anymore, all I’d have to do is go onto a streaming platform and click a button, and an entire catalogue was gone.
I’ve done that more than once.
Writing?
Never erase it.
If you think it’s not “good enough” or whatever, don’t hang onto that or you’ll give yourself writers block.
My suggestion?
RUN THE FLOODGATES.
This is why the “brain dump” morning pages are so helpful, but whatever is in your head, even if it seems like babbling nothing, RUN IT. If you’re having an explosion of thoughts, words, ideas, whatever it is, get it OUT.
There are still treasures in there. The notebook and pen are your net. Filter later, run the flood now, because todays downpour does not ward against tomorrow’s drought.
I “for some reason” stumbled across this when searching for something else.
I saw it and was like, what the fuck.
You can have it now.
I published it 7 months ago when I think there were 100 subscribers here, there’s a lot more now, so this’ll be new to almost all of you.
(Although I’d read to the end of this post before you dive into another, because there’s an “I dare you” type gift for you at the bottom.)
Wanna know what’s cool? When we revisit what we wrote in different time periods and frames of consciousness, its NEW to us again too.
We are transformed, metamorphosed, reborn in every moment.
The post has nothing to do with the caption, I have no idea. This is what stood out.
Pieces like this:
There's no life in their eyes Because they’ve never lost it There's no love in their eyes Because they’ve never lost it There's no depth in their eyes Because they’ve never been that low And for the ones that have.. Well.. Those are the people I know.
or this
So, how to extract medicine from a skeleton soul? This is how I was left, they picked flesh from my bones When I figure it out, I’ll let you know An empty cold, bone-break Saturn silo… When I figure it out, I’ll let you know Though we may feel dead, estranged from “home”, There is medicine..in every shadow We are still alive, more adventures await It’s just hard to see, in the suspended place The chapter between chapters, the spaces between space The waiting room to the void, I know it feels like the end I know it's not easy, dying with living flesh but as the Ancient ones have said… One must aim to die 1000 times, before a physical death welcome to transformation, i know you didn’t sign up for it at least not from any, re-called consciousness.. growing pains like death, a snake shedding skin whatever your assignment, this is training season everyone is here for your evolution but not everyone is for your destiny I know it fucking hurts but there’s another chapter, so come with me…
Honor the space between no longer and not yet. That line speaks volumes! And it’s on a notebook! Special dude, special. You are so right about this going back and digging up old writings. Thanks for reminding us of this.
I actually have something I stumbled across a while back, I've never published for 2 reasons 1) when I found it, it was my handwriting & yes I do vaguely remember writing it but I swear it was written by someone else & 2) I actually wrote it to/about an ex when things seemed way better than what they really were- Im pretty sure I have it in my stuff here, Ima try to find it