a little something I wrote in my notebook during class.
Bandwagon's full,
Please, catch another...
I sit down in front of this paper and I can't find the words to write. I hesitate, trying to think of the eloquent and well structured sentences that come to me in the middle of class, with philosophical musings and articulate thoughts that question society. But as soon as I reach for a pen, the escape me, as if my thoughts have a fear of being defined. I wish I could write. Really write. I wish I could write poetry that people send to each other. Write stories that change peoples outlooks on life. Compose verses that were so meaningful, tears would well up in my readers eyes. I wish I had readers XD. I wish I had fans of my work. I wish my work could be enigmatic and puzzling, full of knowledge and mystery and hidden meanings. But I don't. I don't have pages and pages of my random entries with wisdom beyond my years.
And I hate that.
Please, catch another...
I sit down in front of this paper and I can't find the words to write. I hesitate, trying to think of the eloquent and well structured sentences that come to me in the middle of class, with philosophical musings and articulate thoughts that question society. But as soon as I reach for a pen, the escape me, as if my thoughts have a fear of being defined. I wish I could write. Really write. I wish I could write poetry that people send to each other. Write stories that change peoples outlooks on life. Compose verses that were so meaningful, tears would well up in my readers eyes. I wish I had readers XD. I wish I had fans of my work. I wish my work could be enigmatic and puzzling, full of knowledge and mystery and hidden meanings. But I don't. I don't have pages and pages of my random entries with wisdom beyond my years.
And I hate that.