(no subject)
I go to write, and I have nothing to say. On computer or notebook, journal, lyric, I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY. and at some point in my life since I started enjoying writing, or writing because I, wanted to, it has changed to this. this expectation that something must come from my writing, and this halts me from that first word. that first one that gets you rolling. I think it must say something. I want it to be profound or not exist and so they don't exist. it doesn't exist. this expectation is shit. It seriously, is not cool. I want it to just like, explode. twice. three fucking times. I want to take this idea that writing has to BE SOMETHING OR SAY SOMETHING and smack it directly in the nuts. I'm being really damn serious, unfortunately. I used to curse a school essay or paper, like it was the police, but these days those pages forced upon me roll like dice, flow like butter (does butter flow, really?) shouldn't poetry flow like butter? because it flows, like rock. like lava hardened, for years. no chance at moving. ever, ever again. Not very optimistic, but its fucking lava dude, its stuck. and thats my poetry. lava baby. stuck as a door nob, or something. I got nothing. peace.
Brent
Brent