…I’ve come to a conclusion.
I can’t write sex scenes, or even semi erotic scenes – even kissing scenes without being intoxicated. It’s like the real me, the conservative – who never looks at nude anything except my fiancé – feels embarrassed when it happens in a movie (regardless of what my mind is capable of thinking about it) – old fashioned Sarah, can’t make the bridge between my thoughts and my fingers when it involves frisky topics. It’s like I’m physically not capable of making my thoughts come to paper because the conservative side of me says it’s wrong, but when I’ve got one drink in me a more liberal side of myself shows face. The one that’s capable of expressing such emotions or feelings – who‘s capable of making the thoughts appear in print.
That’s a bad thing, right? I feel like artists – artists who die of overdose because it makes them more creative. I mean I don’t ever see myself coming to this point because it doesn’t make me more creative – I don’t need help with that, but still I hate having to enter those realms to get the thoughts from my mind through my fingers. That doesn’t seem right. DON’T GET ME WRONG – anyone reading this, I only drink on Friday’s and sometimes Saturday’s. I USED to be a bad drinker and I know better than to ever walk that fine line again. STILL… I don’t like this blockade.
I mean how is it that I can have the thoughts, but not make them come forth? If I can think it – I should be able to write it, right? Apparently not with me. Ugh.
Peace – Sarah