I'm trying to make a difference in this world. I'm trying to keep philosophy alive. I'm trying to influence your mind all the while mine is traveling an a billion directions at once.
I believe a little insanity is a good thing.
I'm inspired by life and I'm inspired by brains and nature and love and happiness and obsessiveness and anything else that's in this universe and outside of it. I think too much. I write compulsively. I don't want society to stop reading. I don't want society to stop creating. I want to contribute to this planet's literature that is so often hidden under media, pop culture, and other things that won't really matter in fifty years.
These are my thoughts, and I can't control them. I can't control the words that flow out of my brain and through my body.
This is word vomit. And I'm not cleaning it up.
of you
I didn’t have time to test the waters before I jumped in way too deep.
I’ve gotten a taste, but now my tongue is used to the sweet.
I’ve gotten used to being held, and now I can’t sleep.
I’ve gotten so cold because I need the heat.
So let me ramble as the knot in my chest ties itself around and around into a Hangman’s noose and let me vent my feelings through words to make this knot a little loose and let me be inspired once again by negativity and overthinking and the potential to lose and please just let me get this out before I (continue to) drive myself crazy.
It’s conflicting getting inspiration out of opposites.
It isn’t easy to move on once you’ve got a hypothesis.
I’m realizing my brain is making “too good to be true” into this.
It doesn’t make sense that I’m putting myself in some stupid abyss.
So let me ramble because my emotions are out of control and my brain is playing tricks on me and my thoughts are taking their toll and let me hold on tight to my faithful words and this faithful pen to fill this hole and please excuse me while my ideas teeter-totter and flip around because I’m going crazy.
Because I don’t know who or what to blame when I fall into this slump.
Because I thought I fought it away and got over that hump.
Because all that smoothed is again starting to clump.
Because that smooth road is getting a bump.
So let me ramble because stanzas aren’t helping and my brain is melting and rhyming seems like a hell thing because I can’t tell what the hell kind of fucked up things my brain rings and let me cry because I haven’t in so long and let me break because I’ve found a wrong and let me listen to only sad songs because I guess sometimes that makes me less crazy.
I can’t write well because my brain is shit.
I can’t write my feelings because I’m censoring it.
I can’t vent what I want because I feel so desperate.
I can’t, fuck it.
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