I don't want to start
I don't want to begin
I don't want to conform
I don't want to fit in
I don't want to be dead
Though in vain, I will try
To do anything that will make me feel alive
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Monday, February 19, 2018
I don't like to start like this - just jumping in, running, splashing the day about in bits and pieces.. I want clarity, serenity like glass, a ceiling to break, a moment to take the time to make sure the words rhyme...
How does one move forward? What thoughts motivate the lift of the feet, the click of the hand to decide how to translate what's inside you? Another law to abide to when you wake, you mistake that happiness is a normal thing to fake..
and then you wonder, how am I to live the world? My intentions are pure if I get something out of it. There'll be enough money to make me proud of it.
How does one move forward? What thoughts motivate the lift of the feet, the click of the hand to decide how to translate what's inside you? Another law to abide to when you wake, you mistake that happiness is a normal thing to fake..
and then you wonder, how am I to live the world? My intentions are pure if I get something out of it. There'll be enough money to make me proud of it.
Friday, February 16, 2018
And then suddenly I couldn't write anymore.
The idea of a clean blank page wasn't an opportunity anymore, it was emptiness that needed to be filled. I was money-crazed. I am money-crazed. "How do I make money with this?" "How do I turn my passions into a career?" "How do I monetize my dreams?" Every desire, every hope was coupled with financial realism, qualified by efficiency. If it probably couldn't make me any money, I didn't do it. If the method wasn't time-efficient, I didn't do it. Friends? Fun? Pleasure? What did these words mean anymore? I was tuned in to the reality, and became more aware and subsequently, more controlling.
And as I became more controlling, I fell more into despair. I spent the prime of my early 20's - the times where it doesn't matter if it matters - living in my parents home, unable to stay out too late (my curfew was around 11, though I broke it regularly), unable to dress too risque, unable to speak the way I wanted, or live the way I wanted. Ages 20-23, the time of late sleepless nights and house parties and drugs and liver destruction. I couldn't even crash at friends houses because I wasn't allowed. I always had to drive home. I gotta say, that led to a lot of dangerous drives home.
The thing is, I spent so long longing for a certain kind of experience that now, with the freedom to do so, I'm not sure what I want. I don't know how to define myself, I don't know which character I am in the books I read. I don't have any plan. I am, I am, I am.
The idea of a clean blank page wasn't an opportunity anymore, it was emptiness that needed to be filled. I was money-crazed. I am money-crazed. "How do I make money with this?" "How do I turn my passions into a career?" "How do I monetize my dreams?" Every desire, every hope was coupled with financial realism, qualified by efficiency. If it probably couldn't make me any money, I didn't do it. If the method wasn't time-efficient, I didn't do it. Friends? Fun? Pleasure? What did these words mean anymore? I was tuned in to the reality, and became more aware and subsequently, more controlling.
And as I became more controlling, I fell more into despair. I spent the prime of my early 20's - the times where it doesn't matter if it matters - living in my parents home, unable to stay out too late (my curfew was around 11, though I broke it regularly), unable to dress too risque, unable to speak the way I wanted, or live the way I wanted. Ages 20-23, the time of late sleepless nights and house parties and drugs and liver destruction. I couldn't even crash at friends houses because I wasn't allowed. I always had to drive home. I gotta say, that led to a lot of dangerous drives home.
The thing is, I spent so long longing for a certain kind of experience that now, with the freedom to do so, I'm not sure what I want. I don't know how to define myself, I don't know which character I am in the books I read. I don't have any plan. I am, I am, I am.
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