Nothing To Say

I have nothing to say today, but don’t think for a moment that will stop me from saying it. I mean, people with nothing to say say things all the time. In fact, you can’t seem to shut them up. The harder you try, the more they apparently have to say. They keep saying nothing, over and over again, sometimes for weeks, months, even years. It’s amazing how much people can say without really saying much of anything. And how much listening can happen as a result. Listening that seems like it’s important, which falsely, and even destructively, affirms the one saying nothing, but in the end it doesn’t take anyone anywhere. Why? Because listening to nothing is just that. But I do admire the effort, and the confidence, and the passion, in a strange way, of those who can say so little with so much.

But I will say this:

Peace to you.

© LW Publishing 2011

Flat

I haven’t had much to laugh at lately. I’m not down or depressed, but everything has been kind of flat.

I’ve done some work with bipolar people in the past, and some of them have really hungered for some flat emotions. Most of the time they were either going through the roof or the floor. But then, after getting on some decent meds and leveling out, it's common for them to start missing the strong emotions they had before. As a result, they're tempted to go off their meds, which leads them back into the vicious up and down cycles.

But I understand the conflict. I don’t much like feeling flat all the time. After a while, it's like you’re just floating along, pushed by whatever currents happen to be around you.

It’s also not a very good frame of mind for creativity. Most good art arises out of strong emotion, one way or another, so being “even keeled,” as they say, is kind of an enemy of the creative. At least according to most of the people I’ve talked to.

Some creative people appear to be even keeled, and I think the reason why is that they work out their emotions through their art and craft. If they didn’t have an outlet, many of them would probably have to be institutionalized.

But, whatever. I can’t say I’m feeling particularly strong about it either way. Which makes sense because I’m feeling flat.

Flat as a pancake.
Flat as the bread on a falafel.
Flat as a cat on a hot tin roof.

Sorry. Just trying to be creative. See how bad it is?


Peace to you.


© LW Publishing 2011