Inside

There's always a little bit of something creative left inside of you even when you think there's not... Figure it out. Something I've learned as a writer is that your moods govern your process but you can control your moods. I haven't had writer's block for years and creating is no longer based on moods but more of a choice. Yes. I will always love writing but my favorite kind of character fiction will always destroy me on an emotional level. Yeah, I'll never quit it but I do take breaks from it.

Do you get creatively blocked? How do you get what is inside out?

Here's an newer passage from the novel... And yep it's written from a male perspective. Think what you want. I'll quote Matisse. ;)

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Inside 

“I love it when my insides are my outsides again.” She says it with a smug grin that makes me think of old ladies with Botox and gin before thinking I don't want hear more without laughing. But I'm still pumping. Still going.

I'm still going in this lame as fuck town in the back of a Volkswagen Jetta with this girl trying to find enlightenment while listening to Blondie before returning to the city. 

Flight 204 leaves LAX at gate 24 promptly at 2:04. 

I'm staring at this odd mask on the back of a fence in this strange alleyway trying too hard to focus on release while she keeps talking. This girl not yet a woman wanna-be model keeps talking about her colonic when Alex calls me. 

I answer cause she's still talking about shit. Alex wants to know where I am. I tell him feeding the hungry and motion for Chatty Cathy to taste a little of my brain food.

She changes position as she nods in agreement and its the first time in twenty minutes that she's shut up because she's got something inside of her mouth. And soon enough something outside of...

“Me?” I get back to the real answer now that I'm able to think. 

“Adrian, I'll be home in the studio today.” He says. “Call me.”

“Why?” I question.

“Do it and stop answering my calls when you're...”

“Fucking brilliant,” she says and wipes off her lipstick before reapplying a new color. Fake smiling as she kisses me on the cheek with her newly pink tangerine mouth I think of grapefruit and tequila shots but keep wondering if she enjoys me more outside than inside of her too...

~Adrian (the inauthentic life/perspectives novel)