(no subject)
I'm losing it, I swear. I can't write, I can't think, I can even speak well.
My mind feels like one of those fucked up attics that no one ever goes into because they're afraid of what they'll find. None of my stories are coming along well. They're going so slow, one I've been working on for over a month now. I can't seem to get the words right, they go straight from my brain to my fingers to hell. Where maybe I'll find them once I get this messed up thing I call my life back on track.
I can't even write lyrics right now, my guitar looks like a log, a dead, not even hollow log. Yet every day, here I am, clunking away on a keyboard trying to get some of my shit to come out right. Trying to make the people who count on me happy. Hoping the constant clunking will drown out my useless life. It never works, but sometimes, if I clunk enough something will come out of it, something good; something that people will enjoy. Which is rare I'll admit, but it's the thought that counts, right?
I apologize if you read this thinking it was something major, just feel the need to vent until my venting skills are used, and here's that fateful time, when I must say I have no more shit to complain about. None that any of you would care about anyway.
To those of you who read my mini-rant, thank you, and good night.
<3
hidexthexkey
My mind feels like one of those fucked up attics that no one ever goes into because they're afraid of what they'll find. None of my stories are coming along well. They're going so slow, one I've been working on for over a month now. I can't seem to get the words right, they go straight from my brain to my fingers to hell. Where maybe I'll find them once I get this messed up thing I call my life back on track.
I can't even write lyrics right now, my guitar looks like a log, a dead, not even hollow log. Yet every day, here I am, clunking away on a keyboard trying to get some of my shit to come out right. Trying to make the people who count on me happy. Hoping the constant clunking will drown out my useless life. It never works, but sometimes, if I clunk enough something will come out of it, something good; something that people will enjoy. Which is rare I'll admit, but it's the thought that counts, right?
I apologize if you read this thinking it was something major, just feel the need to vent until my venting skills are used, and here's that fateful time, when I must say I have no more shit to complain about. None that any of you would care about anyway.
To those of you who read my mini-rant, thank you, and good night.
<3
hidexthexkey