... is what I'm gonna do. Probably call it "Corrective Action," and have it be about how great opinions are silenced because we all assume nobody gives a shit. Watch this space. Or not, I don't really care.

So somewhere along the line I stopped writing everything that came to my mind. I can't even speculate as to all the ideas, all the thoughts, all of the clever rhymes and phrases that I conjured up and are now gone due to my inaction. I've decided that I need a new project, preferably something that has to do with writing, but I wonder what that ( Read more... )

I can do or be anything that I so choose. The only problem is, I know that as a fact, rather than believe it as a truth.

So if it is boredom that drives me to write, well, I am in the position of ultimate boredom.  Sitting here at a jury summons that may or may not last all day, but at least I am able to access the internet.  Not used to being up so early, so many of my entries are written late at night... I am not so much a morning person.  And I do not so much have ( Read more... )

So did we hate the system because of the way it made so many people seem so uninspired, or did we just hate it so much because we could never be a part of it? Hard to tell when we're all grown up what we were thinking back then.

You know how you get that feeling where you miss someone or some thing... and then you remember why it is you walked away, and it just strengthens your resolution? Sometimes we get caught up in the glory of old things, and we don't remember that we moved on because we had to. Because maybe those things are not as glorious or beautiful as you ( Read more... )

To try and fail to numb your brain ( Read more... )

To try and fail to numb your brain
And find yourself back here again
An intellectual
With no direction, or reach
Beyond that which you know
But refuse to teach

Poetry is either a long and arduous process or the easiest thing you can ever do with words. I'll post more as I complete it, if I do ever complete it.

I am so very close to writing the first poem I've written in way too many years. It is a very small gap that keeps me from this that becomes even smaller whenever I am forced to take a hard, long look at myself and at whether or not I am truly happy. I used to think that I stopped writing the moment I stopped having all of these trivial, romantic ( Read more... )

What's expected isn't always what happens, I suppose. Expectations are everywhere, people expect things from each other, I expect things from myself, and sometimes I think that some things are just supposed to happen, and that they cannot happen any other way. In some way it's almost like everything is laid out before me, and it is up to me to ( Read more... )