Writers are truly desperate creatures. Who else would choose a form of expression so solitary and reductive? We despair because words can never truly be enough but are the means by which we best express ourselves.
Subconscious - the ideas are formed in the mind as they flow through a pen when it comes in contact with paper.
Music - a conversation with my body
Writing - a conversation with my soul
Full of hypocrisy - I love it, I hate it with such a fervor it becomes quickly apparent why I would be in such despair as to identify as a poet. Poetry is too serious, even when it is playful, until it becomes bad and a joke.
I need to stop being such a goddamn consumer.
My style shifts between Bukowski and some new-age spiritual hippy mumbo jumbo - I am a drunk, bitter animal who plays at hope and enlightenment.
Push through discomfort. To be comfortable is to have given up the fight. But I am tired of fighting and I feel like a loser. Is it better to power through until the bitter end, and ultimate loss, knowing I tried my hardest, or is it better to throw in the towel and admit defeat? Is one loss more bearable than the other?
In this world am I a lion or a lamb?