Catalysts to one's creativity

First of all, one of the things that inspire me to churn out these words is the annoying but welcome bursts of sudden revelations. These instances usually happen when I'm walking, watching TV, listening to the radio, drinking coffee or just sitting around, doing nothing. It is not a pretty sight because I suddenly become a raving lunatic, speaking so fast that the words that come out of my mouth is faster than the rate that my memory can handle so I always try to have some paper on hand so I can record these. It's a literary technique called stream of consciousness.

Another thing is the infuriating events that happen around me, or to those people close to me. Sometimes, I just don't know how they end up in my writing; it's like an idea constantly nagging at my brain, begging to be set free. I just feel the need that some people should sympathize with my situation, much less to actually solve the problem I'm talking about.

Why, you may ask? Because I am a perpetual stranger to those who wouldn't want to know for I resent them for being so much like the others. Because they aspire to be like the one ideal image of beauty or machismo, they lose their identity and become known as a generalization, no individualization. They might know my name and my general disposition but that is all they will ever know.

Therefore, one may conclude that rage fills every corner of this journal. It is the fire which burns in the mind of the author.

The rage helps me know that I am still sane because I still want to change the situation and I have not yet grown numb to all this shit.

Coffee, dried leaves and certain types of persons also count as catalysts but when I sit down and actually poise the pen over the paper, it all comes to my uncontrollable and insane imagination. It doesn't take me long to conjure up scenarios and theories to explain something but at time it gets out of control (but paranoia and self-consciousness are some negative side-effects).

But what is so amazing is that some of the people I superficially know actually resent and isolate me because I think this way. Why? Do they feel that one should deal with cold, hard facts and never surrender to the irrationality of dreams? Do they believe that people like them who worship cycle, that surrender to the crushing weight of society for conformity, regulation and sick order are better than us?

Well if my ideals are sins to them, for me they are the strength within, then I shall stay a sinner! To these people who isolate me, you better think again.

I'm gonna bludgeon you with my pen.