The need for consistency

Consistency - Target
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Sure enough, consistency is key to my organization. I have been wanting consistency in my life always, and at the same time, it faces the constant flow of change.

Change is the sign of life.

Art is another form of our world that emanates from creativity. It produces beauty. And then it stays. It does not change once it is produced. It becomes something different, but it does not change after it is produced. It will change others in the sense that art moves you. But it does not change itself after it has been created.

I struggle between two poles. My need for consistency. My aspiration for art.

When I write I can forget about everything in the process. I forget about the others. I forget about my pain. I forget about my worries. I forget about the rules and the necessities. I just create a flow and I navigate it.

Then I have to end the journey at some point because one cannot endlessly float on their back staring at the sky and enjoying the ride, and I have to go back to the bare necessities.

And I go back to my lists, and they feel so dull.

It is like having taken a wonderful vacation and returning to the old factory in a grey and smokey city in the last century. I drag my feet. I want to remember the journey. I am not yet ready to go back to work. The alarm clock screams at me. Time has passed. I am late and have missed my deadlines. Now it is rush hour.

Between dull and stress, my heart always hesitates.

Where do stories go

Inspiration comes and goes.

If this is not the right time to sit at the table and write, it is lost forever. You could have a notebook to jot down the ideas, that would help a bit, but will never make it up for the disciplined quarter of an hour that it takes to write down a good three page worth of inspired of creative writing.

Every day I wake up with a wealth of stories. Every day I go to sleep with even more, because the daily events, and thoughts have brought some new ones: I constantly hear a dialogue, I constantly write in my imagination. Those stories have different publics, sometimes I write for a particular person or group of persons, sometimes I write in my own language and sometimes I write in English. (I seldom write in another language to be perfectly honest, I would certainly not be able).

So how come those stories never get written down? Truth is they do. They often get written down by someone else. I realize that I can’t be writing at the speed of my thoughts, but those stories do have a life of their own, even outside of my head. This is why I love reading so much: in search of the story that evades from my mind and found its way through someone else’s, who had the discipline and the talent to write it down and get it published.