Between Passion and Thought

By Simon Gill

This book tells of one man's journey of self-discovery. From a childish love that became brackish hate to a sense of peace and understanding, this book shows snippets of all manner of emotions that lie between the two sides of our minds.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 8, 2011
• ISBN: 9781447624578

Book preview

thought.

Inspiration

Oh, for a source of inspirons*.

A simple collector, a source to drink.

I know not how to fill my cup today.

And it has been drained dry by terrible boredom. Would only that my mind could chime to the universe.

Would only that you would not suffer

for lack of pleasing rhyme. Oh, for a source of inspirons. * Read Discworld** by Sir Terry Prattchet

** Yes, every single book***

*** OK, you only have to read Jingo to get this****

**** But you really should read all of them. He is an amazing writer.

Ideas

An empty mind,

behind this blank page. Words coalesce from space,

condense in my mind,

flow through me,

find the channel in my fingers. Inspiration mixes with my thoughts,

my light, my love,

my darkness, my jealousy,

Everything. The page burns, electrons flash. The ideas are ready, all for you.

Rationalisation

I don’t know what moves my pen,

A force behind my eyes offers words

to impatient fingers. Images flow, paint collecting in the

cups of every letter, building a

paradise and a hell in equal turn. From the boiling sea of thoughts

bubbles out this paint. What feeds this sea

its unending energy? Deep under the surface must be my soul,

a piece of the world caught up in human form

feeding me the fruits of passions. What else could there be? How else?

How else could the random become sublime?

Why do I have no control over it?

Why do I write?

It’s a question.

It’s a good question.

Its words. All words.

I see them, I hear them. Perhaps, I just love them.

There is nothing greater than the feeling of words flowing,

flowing from deep in your soul, through your hands into the page.

Seeing the letters collect, making a coherent story.

Reading it back, tasting the metaphor.

The smell of victory, but not napalm.

Yes, I think it’s fair to