Saturday, January 10, 2009


Written on:Saturday, June 21, 2008

Its been so long since Ive actually put the pen to work.
Its been so long since its successfully and beautifully embraced any paper.
Its easy for any moron to write down an endless amount of words..
words that feel good,comming from you..but mean nothing.
words with no point,or ... Im not sure.meaning.

Ive read so many retarded,amature emo Poetry on here,that have honestly Made me gag and roll my eyes, .. Congrats.I was actually tempted to slitting my wrists (if that what you "writers" were aiming for. haha.)

Months and months ago..I started writing a book.

A book,that i put much effort into.
I only got a couple of chapters Deep,but It was something I really adored writing..all of these ideas,poured out of me.. I brainstormed at least a page worth.

Ive been writing short stories since I was younger.Perhaps 7 or 8.
Id always have these ideas,and I'd start writing..My little brother was the only one I shared these stories with. Laying in our beds at night,and I'd read some aloud.I remember he'd always collaberate with me on Plots ;p It was fun. The only flaw I had ,was my terrible habbit of NEVER finishing what I started.

To this day,I have dozens and dozens of crumbled paper scrunched in my dresser drawers.Oneday I will go through these..unfolding them each,one by one..bending out the bumps and flaws,Straightening the many creases,reading every word writen on them,and I am so certain it will be entertaining.

back to my "goal"...

So this time,years later..I thought.. I'm going to write a book.Something I'm serious about.something I will publish. something I will expose to society.Something I will Just strip of any cloth or censorship,leaving bare to the public.

No matter their thoughts on me..
theres something I need to get out.
theres so many tiny fragments of my own pain,that needs to be set free,as if they were millions of teeny fire flies,into the midnight sky.I need to create something,with my mind..with my emotions..with my hands..with words,with a pen and paper.

I could take my personal thoughts,and just morphe them into fantasy,and fear..and Phobia,and desire..creating a pretty story.

And well,I Started just that..

I was up late at night,alone..and I just started writing.
Writing with no aim,With no specific intention..
striving for unknown success.
My only goal was to express myself,It was as if my mind was blindfolded,and I just decided to wing it,completely.

From the first sentence.. I suddenly became full of amazing,beautiful mental imagery..and then Sooner or later,characters formed.. I had no idea where It would take me,how far id get,or If any of it would even make any fucking sense.

but .. It pleased me.and Im sure thats all that mattered.

Lauren was the only one that I showed this "book" to.

of course I had only gotten up to about chapter 3.
but these chapters were long,molded chapters of nothing that meant such everything to me.

lately,Ive been feeling more and more inspired and eager to finish writing this book..Its so difficult though. Especially when your heart is as open and blind at the same time,like mine.

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