HELP!
Why does everything i write never seem good to me, it can be ok, but it's not amazing. You know, sub par. Why can't i write something you'd want to read over and over again and go "god, what goes on in that guys head to write something so amazing like that", like Conor Oberst(Bright Eyes) , Tim Kasher(Cursive/The Goodlife) , Dustin Kensrue(Thrice) , or Thom Yorke(Radiohead) . I hope one day i can open up and write such beauty. Maybe i need something really fucked up to happen to me or be manic/depressed like Conor and Tim, or worry about political and world issues like Dustin, or maybe i'll just be a fucking nut like Thom. Who knows, but they're all fucking brilliant geniuses. Maybe when the right music and situation presents it's self i can, cause all my writing of late, has just been so flat, empty, boring, constantly looking for styles of others for motivation when i should be finding my own. Lets hope i can get it write, or not at all.
Bright Eyes: Nothing Gets Crossed Out
The future has got me worried, such awful thoughts.
My head is a carousel of pictures.
The spinning never stops.
I just want someone to walk in front and I'll follow the leader.
Like when I fell under the weight of a schoolboy crush.
I started carrying her books and doing lots of drugs.
I almost forgot who I was, but came to my senses.
Now I try to be assertive.
I'm making plans.
I want to rise to the occasion, yeah, meet all of their demands...
Cursive: The Martyr
...and thusly it ends
depression seeps in on a lonely messiah
now he drinks with the lepers
losing a limb
his better half
a glass once half full
a head hung half-mast
he claims he's the victim
strangled by the nine-to-five
and a pattern of stillness
that haunted this still life...
Thrice: Under A Killing Moon
the air my lungs first loved
carves craters from my eyes
they said 'breathe deeply son
or be the next to die'
Beneath the falling night
and heaven's shutting gate
pray keep your tongue held tight
or suffer the same fate...
Radiohead: Pryramid Song
I jumped in the river and what did I see?
Black-eyed angels swam with me
A moon full of stars and astral cars
All the things I used to see
All my lovers were there with me
All my past and futures
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt...
Bright Eyes: Nothing Gets Crossed Out
The future has got me worried, such awful thoughts.
My head is a carousel of pictures.
The spinning never stops.
I just want someone to walk in front and I'll follow the leader.
Like when I fell under the weight of a schoolboy crush.
I started carrying her books and doing lots of drugs.
I almost forgot who I was, but came to my senses.
Now I try to be assertive.
I'm making plans.
I want to rise to the occasion, yeah, meet all of their demands...
Cursive: The Martyr
...and thusly it ends
depression seeps in on a lonely messiah
now he drinks with the lepers
losing a limb
his better half
a glass once half full
a head hung half-mast
he claims he's the victim
strangled by the nine-to-five
and a pattern of stillness
that haunted this still life...
Thrice: Under A Killing Moon
the air my lungs first loved
carves craters from my eyes
they said 'breathe deeply son
or be the next to die'
Beneath the falling night
and heaven's shutting gate
pray keep your tongue held tight
or suffer the same fate...
Radiohead: Pryramid Song
I jumped in the river and what did I see?
Black-eyed angels swam with me
A moon full of stars and astral cars
All the things I used to see
All my lovers were there with me
All my past and futures
And we all went to heaven in a little row boat
There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt...