a measurement of depth is difficult when the depths are frozen. you know there is so much more below the hard surface... but when you cast the line and weight they merely stretch out horizontally. this leaves one knowing little but measuring much.
the writings suggest great depths. so far i read hints of much more but its origins are elusive with the destination too final.
I would have to agree, though the finality of my writting only hints at the end results, the actual causes are multi-layered and on-going and much to hard to seperate despite my best efforts...but I am trying.
i had asked about beliefs and disbeliefs. these (can) provide color to an otherwise pale canvas.
in the written illustrations that can be given, depth, can be had in epic displays of exposed convictions. you have this ability to express with courage, yet fear seems to bind you and limits the beauty of what could be portrayed.
you make a reader want more... with no idea of being able to get more, no matter how much is read. the talent is obvious and immense but lacks direction. it is belief and disbelief that can provide that direction.
you open up and show the darkness of hopes unrealized, being encompassed by despair. yet is there no light of hopes renewed? the resolve that springs from some... inner certainty? if not... why not.
:: smiles softly :: It has always been and will always be...this darkness as I put it has always been there over shadowing everything that I have ever done, ever wanted, or ever had...the only way to deal with this continuous nastiness is to write it all down to get it out of me. Sorry its so cryptic Iwill try harder. :: smiles::
M... Poe wrote out of darkness and despair and though many of his offerings bordered on the macabre there was an intense mixture of emotional hues, both light and dark. These came from the rich cornucopia of expression that his courage and willingness to be vunerable with his readers would allow.
Cryptic writting is sometimes the best. As it was with Poe the door that is only open the slightest crack, with evidence on its threshold that beckons one to pass through... makes for an exciting read.
But writing may have not been theraputic for Poe... then on the other hand perhaps it was.
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the writings suggest great depths. so far i read hints of much more but its origins are elusive with the destination too final.
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in the written illustrations that can be given, depth, can be had in epic displays of exposed convictions. you have this ability to express with courage, yet fear seems to bind you and limits the beauty of what could be portrayed.
you make a reader want more... with no idea of being able to get more, no matter how much is read. the talent is obvious and immense but lacks direction. it is belief and disbelief that can provide that direction.
you open up and show the darkness of hopes unrealized, being encompassed by despair. yet is there no light of hopes renewed? the resolve that springs from some... inner certainty? if not... why not.
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It has always been and will always be...this darkness as I put it has always been there over shadowing everything that I have ever done, ever wanted, or ever had...the only way to deal with this continuous nastiness is to write it all down to get it out of me. Sorry its so cryptic Iwill try harder. :: smiles::
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Cryptic writting is sometimes the best. As it was with Poe the door that is only open the slightest crack, with evidence on its threshold that beckons one to pass through... makes for an exciting read.
But writing may have not been theraputic for Poe... then on the other hand perhaps it was.
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