human is the music; natural is the static

"for some reason deep in my karma, i have always felt compelled to set down a vision of things i have heard or seen. life itself has never been enough. it only became real for me when i fashioned it into stories. yet, somehow, despite all i've written, the true nature of things i've tried to grasp in my fiction still manages to drift through the words and sit, like little piles of dust, between the lines. the histories are even more unsatisfactory than tales in capturing the essence of things. as i look back through the diaries i've kept over the years, i realize that although they jog many memories for me, they are likely to be utterly flat to anyone else. ...perhaps by engaging the fact of my fiction i will at last be able to come to some sort of truth. ...can it possibly atone for all the paper, though?"

that's from a book i love, 'tale of murasaki', that i was given by a very good friend. that passage is one i like because i have felt at times that the 'essence' of what i'm trying to relate is the very thing that is not coming across in the hundreds of words i'm devoting to the cause! however, unlike murasaki, i don't always feel that way. mostly, i have fun being a writer- it's not exasperating. it's enjoyable. it's just kind of cool to find that an ancient japanese woman who lived hundreds of years ago had some of the same frustrations as i do when it comes to journalling!

here's another phrase i liked in the book:

"fate is unmoved by one's pitiful hopes; what changes, bowing to fate, is what one hopes for." ....isn't there a rolling stones song that echoes that very sentiment?