I keep sleeping with the blinds open, in hopes that one of these days I'll wake up to the sunshine, at a normal time, like 8 or 9am, and i'll stop craving late nights with coffee, and stop reveling in insomniac tendencies, and just be normal. Yes.
I've been coasting, just happy and good and warm, but all this has made for a drought of creative juice. I have all these halves. Three half-songs. Four half-poems. My photos are dull; I don't know how to be artistic anymore. I need to crash into something, or something to crash into me — see here I would put some imagery, like about tides or something, but i can't! i just can't! i don't know how! — with such terrible force that I have to write about it. You know that feeling?
I overslept, so now most things are overdone. I will be frustrated with this post after reading it! Why did I try so hard to make my words make sense? I burned a grilled cheese sandwich today. I don't know. Blank brain, blank brain...
1 comment:
Stop trying so hard. Stop writing for an audience.
Stop hesitating and write about what you know.
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