Writing As A Form Of Therapy

[Silenus]

An interesting time for a writer... I am inhabiting the skull of one of my characters in the steampunk novel I am in the process of writing...

Interesting, and a little disturbing, for the character is a potential serial killer, being profiled in a series of cat-and-mouse interviews by the renowned Dr. Swansong...

Earlier, I was in Swansong's head, working out what makes her get up in the morning...

World-building... the gift and the curse of the fabulist...

[Silenus]

I find as a writer that it helps to have a fluidity of character, a certain mercurial trait, so that you can inhabit multiple invented characters and imbue them all with life and "realness"...

Characters must be believable and internally consistent, even if that means being inconsistent...

Hahaha...

[Mazarita]

Hi again @Silenus, that makes sense to me about characters being believable and internally consistent, even if by being inconsistent. The creative spaces seem paradoxical to me.

I come to a finished form in videos by not knowing what I'm doing, as in no plan, just video making as it's happening (with lots of revision). Only at the end does it really make full sense.

Inhabiting your characters sounds a bit like method acting. I was an actor for a while when younger and I remember getting very intensely into inhabiting characters even when not on stage (I did mostly theatre). It involved a bit of madness. These days I adopt a approach that's not quite so intense, being kind of in and out of what I'm doing at the same time. If that makes any sense.

I'm kind of comparing two very different forms of creativity: writing and video making. But I find creative processes cross over different modes of expression.

[eudemonism]

Hello to everyone on this thread. I'm reading the odd post and hope I'm not treading on anyones toes bye contributing. Definitely not my intentions.

[eudemonism]

(For such a long time...) i have sought from life in my mind. What i consider too be right and wrong. And always searched to be achieving what would bring a sense of satisfaction, completion and fulfillment into my heart. So i could rest easily.

And although coming close too achieving such things. The big bad monster. Which brought empty feelings into my soul. Would always return. In a stronger form. And more determined then ever before. Too make me rethink. What went wrong.

The storm of emotions. Knew no such thing. As meditation. Or a wise choice. Which lead too peace, calm and tranquility. And if anything it made me wage war against myself. For how reality had made me feel. And it wanted too deal a deal.

The world is waiting to effect me. At any given chance. Where i will allow it too. It attacks me identity. And makes me feel. Like every one is against me. Through the form of trying too convince me that everyone knows what is going on.

So essentially. I have convinced myself. That no longer can four walks protect me. A sixth sense? An imaginary world? An overactive active mind driven bye positive and negative swirls? Or perhaps the acts of the devine powers of good and evil?

I worked out that my time had come. Too begin working out. And getting know. The master of the light. And the ruler of darkness. Be it God? Or being it the Devil? Or be it my own deranged mind? My time had come too. Realize who the enemy was. And who could save me from such a force....

[Mazarita]

Once I met a man on a train.

He had cigarette burns on his arms.

An agitated spirit in his movements.

The restless man sat next to me.

He spoke in torment about good and evil.

I complained they're always at war.

Later I reflected on religion.

My mother's Catholic beliefs took me as a child.

Raging Atheism on my father's side.

This conflict is within me.

As it was with the man on the train.

I cover my scars in calm costume.

Now I speak to be seen.

[Mazarita]

The Times

I'm afraid of housing

as I get older.

Rents are skyrocketing,

people becoming homeless.

More than one warning message

in the news

about older women

being especially vulnerable.

Living on a pension,

I spend 10 grand a year on rent.

Sharing accommodation with

a friend and companion.

In a little flat with a mini kitchen.

I am one of the lucky ones.

My single friend aged 54,

living alone,

weeks from exiting the building,

forced to leave for redevelopment,

is looking at almost twice that amount.

That's if she's lucky enough to find a place

in a market with only 1% availability,

and if she's lucky enough to win

the lottery of applications

to real estate agents,

with just a pension and a little savings

to her name.

What is to become of us

in a future based on

this time?

[Teej]

This has been in the forefront of my thinking lately too @Mazarita. My only hope is that enough stories will be told that get the ball rolling with really adressing this. I too maybe in this position once my kids leave which is pretty likely to be in the next few years. It scares me too. It appears to be a rapidly growing situation which needs to be addressed urgently. Well that’s my soap box talk for today 🤔☺️💜

[Mazarita]

Hi @Teej ox 🙂

Good to hear from you. Sorry to know you may face this too. It's impossible to get public housing where I am. Luckily we have just signed another years lease on our private rental through onsite agents. There needs to be something done about this by government. The housing of the community is a disaster when totally in the hands of the free market. There needs to be more checks and balances and some form of rent control. It is galloping out of the reaches of too many people now. End of soapbox rave here.

[Mazarita]

when trust is broken

and you're already born

with a maladaptive penchant

when it happens very early

and you wake to a world

that seems hostile

then that's all you know

deep down in that void

that may be your self

solitude seems to be

your friend and enemy