tentative.This makes me seem like a liar when confronted with my last post promising a shitload of new material. Art, prose, call it what you will. I still have a stash saved on my computer, but I'll be letting those loose one by one as they filter through my ever-changing mood. It kind of sucks, this state I'm in. Inspiration and motivation is scarce these days and the bipolarity makes me think some things I write are the best I've written and other days they have no emotion left to spare and I come close to throwing everything away. But for those Watching me (no one, really), apologies etc. and thanks for staying close through the thick and thin and such. I thrive on feedback. Really, just recognition that someone other than me is reading my stuff, so I thrive selfishly.
While I'm riding this wave of frustration from having my friends ditch me last night while I was crusading at an art festival downtown, I'm gonna post a darker piece written a couple months ago at four in the morning, like usual.
PS: There were some awesome slam poets at the festival and it really brought out the best in me. Was a nice reminder.
Until next time,
Me.
Irritated
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Touch your thighs I'm the lonely one
[link]
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"A place to momentarily house all the abstractions."
-Liz
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Life is brief and very fragile.
Do that which makes you happy.
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E.N.E
-Bite my nuts and call me Skippy.
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"Because no battle is ever won He said. They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools."
—William Faulkner
Keep up the awesome work, Daniel.
My jealousy's off the charts.
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Hey, don't eat my pants.
I need those.
...
...
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"Because no battle is ever won He said. They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools."
—William Faulkner
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