Do words get you hot?

I find it a perfectly normal and admirable condition to be sexually aroused by a well written book.

Hold on, let me skip back a few chapters in my brain, and attempt to explain myself.

I'm not talking about books that are supposed to get you off, I'm not going to do a thorough review on 50 shades (it doesn't deserve one), I mean, just a really really good book. The sort of book with an enticing storyline, realistic and memorable characters, relationships you can feel building and shifting, a book you finish and think to yourself: "well, I feel like being a better person today!" Yeah, we all have one of those, and if you haven't, bloody find one before you turn into a terrible person.

I recently finished a novel called The Paris Wife by the wonderful Paula McLain. It's a recollection of the heartbreaking story of Ernest Hemingway's first wife Hadley and their dramatic journey through their more than turbulent marriage. I love historical novels with real-life characters made immortal through literature. I put down the book seeming somewhat bewildered - I knew what was coming, there are no surprises in the storyline, it's all purely factual - but - it was so personal, so easy to understand events with the psychological state in place.

The young Hemingway

It's a wonderfully well-written piece, and, let's be honest, if you have read it or are reading it, it's pretty much impossible not to fall in love with Mr. Hemingway. I challenge you if you don't. Well, in all, the story is pretty depressing (as you would imagine) but by the end of it, I just felt all hot and bothered. I don't want people thinking that that's my aphrodisiac and start buying me some Charlotte Brontë, but it makes me seek out company a lot more than I normally do.

I've proposed a theory (so, brace yourself); being immersed in the sheer artistic value of a good book makes you feel important.

It's great to be valued so highly, you are a spectator, watching from afar as someone talks to you about their life - no one else - just you. Ohhh, it gives me chills. This elevated sense of self-importance really gives you an ego boost; you are more confident, you carry yourself well, you pick up your feet and talk with such grace as your mind fixates on yourself. It's rewarding to be selfish - we are, after all, incredibly selfish creatures, forced to battle it out in a world together. When someone gives you the honour of peering deep into their life, well, you can't help but be flattered.

The combination of words to make beautiful sentences that give you chills, oh dear, you have not lived until a book has given you bumps all down your neck. There is meaning in all this rubbish I'm typing out right now... Why the hell don't you read more? Words have the power to change lives, to grant wishes, to exceed confidence and gain an understanding in places you've never even dreamt of.

I want to live it. I want to create a world to live in where love and passion and sex are no longer taboos, I want pain and heartbreak at my throat, I want adventure and magic that is seemingly impossible, I want to live a fictional life and die in a fictional world.

Norliza. 

Where's my mind?

So, what the hell goes in this little box? I've written the title, I've got the ideas, but where do I go from here?

It's hard to decipher what goes on in anyone's mind without cracking it open and taking a peep. It is because we are always hiding, always masking our mind with rubbish society throws at us. I apologise in advance, I don't have answers, I just have opinions, and this may get a bit negative a lot of the time. That's the big thing - society - blame it all on "society" man! Of course, every human being needs someone or something to project blame onto, anything to divert responsibility from themselves. We are a selfish species. The way you think is clouded by what "they" think ("they" is "the man" who controls the "mainstream" and the "corporations" dude.)

Joking aside, I actually do believe we can't see what is truly in our mind based upon the everyday doings of modern society. We are so conscious about what others think about us more than what we think about ourselves. Therefore, no one can truly, in essence, "be themselves" around anyone, no matter how close they are. Apologies for the overuse of sarcastic quotation marks... I don't mean to sound like a pedantic twat, but it is starting to annoy me as well.

So, want to know where my mind is at? As far away from human beings as can be physically possible without getting it lost in the vastness of our universe. Yeah, I'm pretty fucking spaced out. In my opinion, it is safe to keep your mind and your body at a distance as not to be too caught up in reality and life's everyday doings and loosing an identity all together. Growing up in a pretty isolated childhood, I retreated to my imagination, which, by the age of five, was up in the clouds. I know, all children have a beautiful imagination which I yearn to recoil safely back into, but my imagination was completely separate to my everyday life.

Getting your head around all of this? I'm not sure I am entirely...

I watched a fascinating TEDTalks the other day, and the author Elizabeth Gilbert was giving the talk on creativity and, rather interestingly, explored why suicide was common amongst the creative thinkers. First off, I'm not here to talk about the talk she gave (I have a link at the bottom for those interested), but  I'd like to give you my answer to why suicide is more common with the creative.

To be creative, one must think like no one else. Their minds must work like no one else. They always question where their mind is and dedicate their life to discover it. I find it utterly incredible. Of course, I am speaking entirely out of my own experience and how my own mind tends to work, but I believe that those who dedicate their life to creativity are bound to feel the same. Well then, how does this relate to the dreaded taking of ones own life? Well, some people just never find their mind.

It's a horrible thought, and one that I've been dreading my whole life. Put it like this; your entire life you've been dedicating yourself to unlocking the secret to something in your own head, but you have no idea how or why or where so you simply question it, or express it, or hold on to it and let no one else in. No one can possibly think the same as you, they can't help you - so you panic.

It is the most lonely feeling in the world, and it's been haunting me my entire life.
It's that breaking point in a person's mind when they realise that there is nothing left for them in the world and that no one is ever going to listen.

I'm truly sorry for the melancholic post, but I hope this really reaches out to some people, if not, I hope it was just a smashing read.

TEDtalks link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86x-u-tz0MA


Norliza.