random?

The ideas have come and gone-flown and created great murders of animals whizzing above my head at break neck speeds. I haven't yet wrung any of their necks and scribed in their blood. But I will...maybe, eventually. I think, as a writer, sometimes things meld and become forgotten. I have been so overcome with writing down ideas I forgot that the joy of creation is in the art of letting it come out as it wishes. Control has no place in artistry, as it has no place in any matter of the heart. Only a fool would try to control that which motivates and guides his heart.
The ideas will ferment and fossilize eventually and maybe til then they can roam the earth. The next great natural disaster may incinerate them into my hand an demand their story be told. So it goes. SO I hope it does-because, let's be honest here, what am I if not controlled. Stifled-rather. As an aside, I notice patterns in my writing-which make me feel predictable, uninteresting and anti-creative-NO like!

I digress, I began a new counseling fraught with almost 2 hour sessions of trauma work (ahhhh), EMDR, hypnosis and neurofeedback. Hold on friends-this is going to be one wild ride. I am a little excited and more than a little afraid to pull the monkey off my back-examine it and then-hopefully discard the burden of my past. If I were a character in morrowind I would have to have maxed out my stamina by this point. . . and I have still been unable to run despite all my endurance specs. The weight has simply become too much. Here goes nothin.