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Where is my paradise?
Apr. 18th, 2009 12:59 amFuck it. I was typing and my computer froze in the middle of me being deep and truthful and painfully bare. That's only because I'm hyped on a Monster right now....
Oh yeah.
I feel ready to take the words inside my head and weave them into something beautiful, something truthful and beautiful. I'm always searching for something that'll set it off, make it all explode inside me, make it all come screaming out.
It's why i"m always listening to music, looking for new music. Why I always want energy drinks, why I always read books, why I always make up little stories inside my head. It's why I want to become a photographer SO BAD... to see if one day I can find something that'll make me click, something that'll dig up the little inspiration, the beautiful soul within me.
I've given up writing poetry. I've tried pulling it out, forcing it out, practicing so I can coax it out, but it doesn't happen. I get an idea, it feels good for the moment, then I go to write it down, and don't know what to say.
Of course, everyone has that happen to them. I'm not distraught by it. I'm used to it by now.
I know I'm different from everyone else, because I realize that I barely have an opinion on anything, I'm quiet, I watch, I listen, I take it all in. Waiting for the moment where it all come crashing together, my mind finally fucking wakes up, and I actually feel inspired.
But for now I'm not a person. I'm just here, waiting for something to happen.
Anything.
I'm about to consider tearing up my life up just for the hell of it, to stir things up and see if I get something out of it. Changing my looks, becoming someone of status, catching people's attention, so someone will be there to listen when I finally set into place.
I used to happen all the time, when I used to chug two, three rockstars in a span of two hours, sit there missing Parker, when he wasn't mine, and listening to music. Picking up little phrases in the songs, interpretting then into my perspective, and clicking. CLICKING INTO PLACE. It used to feel so good.
And now that sensation is deep within, taunting me. I can't reach it. Damn it all to hell.
Oh yeah.
I feel ready to take the words inside my head and weave them into something beautiful, something truthful and beautiful. I'm always searching for something that'll set it off, make it all explode inside me, make it all come screaming out.
It's why i"m always listening to music, looking for new music. Why I always want energy drinks, why I always read books, why I always make up little stories inside my head. It's why I want to become a photographer SO BAD... to see if one day I can find something that'll make me click, something that'll dig up the little inspiration, the beautiful soul within me.
I've given up writing poetry. I've tried pulling it out, forcing it out, practicing so I can coax it out, but it doesn't happen. I get an idea, it feels good for the moment, then I go to write it down, and don't know what to say.
Of course, everyone has that happen to them. I'm not distraught by it. I'm used to it by now.
I know I'm different from everyone else, because I realize that I barely have an opinion on anything, I'm quiet, I watch, I listen, I take it all in. Waiting for the moment where it all come crashing together, my mind finally fucking wakes up, and I actually feel inspired.
But for now I'm not a person. I'm just here, waiting for something to happen.
Anything.
I'm about to consider tearing up my life up just for the hell of it, to stir things up and see if I get something out of it. Changing my looks, becoming someone of status, catching people's attention, so someone will be there to listen when I finally set into place.
I used to happen all the time, when I used to chug two, three rockstars in a span of two hours, sit there missing Parker, when he wasn't mine, and listening to music. Picking up little phrases in the songs, interpretting then into my perspective, and clicking. CLICKING INTO PLACE. It used to feel so good.
And now that sensation is deep within, taunting me. I can't reach it. Damn it all to hell.
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