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Storm-ID 
Only Happy When It Rains Aug 19, 2008, 09:29:35
Mood:  sleepyListening To: Daft Punk, Garbage, Junkie XL 
For the Deviant Art and Storm Artists side of this blog, this note shall entail that I’m not posting anything at those sites, likely for a very long time, or hopefully, forever. I’m moving my general musings and short stories over to my wordpress account: [link] So that’s that. For the Myspace side of this blog post, (because I’m too lazy to cut this intro into chunks for only the relevant sites) nothing changes. Wordpress and this place shall be the only place I keep this shit up to date now. ANYWHOOO… It rained all day today. Felt great. Took a walk when everything let up for a bit, and there was a chill to the wind that bit at my face, and the clouds kept everything a lovely dark shade of its former self. Wind kept blowing all day, sat outside a lot with the cat and just watched the trees fight at the storm. I love days like this. Others call these days dull or terrible. I thrive in them. Granted, I didn’t do shit with most of the day. Aside from going out to the new Sonic with Kyle and his wife, I just sort of dicked around on WoW all day (Nether Drake, you will be mine). Still, there’s some unique type of whimsy that floats in my brain on days like this. Instead of the usual pain and tedium that propagates in my mind so much these days, I was instead able to break away and look at inspiration again. … I didn’t FIND inspiration, but for the first time in a great long while, I felt like it was within reach. A whole week of this kind of weather, and maybe I’ll actually get back to shitting out some drafts again. I listen to this Junkie XL track, “Home”. It’s odd because I don’t really know the true meaning of the word. But the wordless soft and sweeping sound. It pushed me in a direction at least. I find it amazing how easy it is for a song to bring me to the brink of tears. If not for the music itself, then for wherever it takes my brain. Some unique type of place where I’m constantly reaching out for that hand that can guide me towards creative bliss… but I only come so far. End up short. Every attempt at anything I’ve endeavored towards so far seems like some kind of analog. Like I’ve built it just to build it. Look at the form, look at the idea. The only sort of solution I came to is to start “sketching” ideas based on characters. Get the feeling of what should transpire with things like poems or short little bits of tales that do nothing but try to establish a mood. I should hopefully crank a few out over the next few days. But of course, if this weather doesn’t hold… then it may be for naught. Fickle… And though I know you can’t appreciate it I’m only happy when it rains Read More Bio
Known in some circles as a self loathing writer, known in others as nothing more than a shadow on the wall. Dreams of infinity, for fear of becoming nothing.
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