its sad thats what is considered inspiration to me is pain. The fact that ive associated such a negative feeling into something that drives me to write. To express myself…in doing what I love, sharing my “so called” talent. Maybe i shouldn’t look at the glass half empty but half full. But I dont like to put myself in the category of ‘society’ in using a term as such. But fuck it..maybe i should look at it as how i can turn such negativity into poetry, a blog, a beautifully written piece, or fucking words scribbled on a piece of paper that i thought twice about writing…however you interpret it…i couldn’t care less…its merely just a reflection of myself…and not so much being true to you to let you know how im feeling , but true to myself. For half that shit i write about you, or him, or her or they, have probably read it a thousand times as it went way over their head as they tried to figure out who it was really about. That is if they even gave a shit.
Dont ask me where the fuck i am going with this. I didnt have a fucking revelation or feel it neccessary to write or was in the mood to be creative. My thoughts have never run so uncontrollably in different directions not even knowing where the fuck they want to flow out of….whether it be the flood gates opening and my feelings running down my face ruining my mascara…or it be the mishaps that form at my lips and fly out of my mouth. Who knows….I have never been so unsure. Just when you think you have figured yourself out.. for I have been living with myself for the 22 years of my existance on this planet. On this shitty place called earth in this shitty place i call home. ….
Please tell me, i would love to know. what does the word home mean to you? somewhere where you just rest your head? shelter from the cruel place we live in? shelter from the rain? A place where you spend most of your time? What does it mean to you. How do you interpret those four letters?
home is..a house, apartment, or other shelter that is the usual residence of a person, family, or household. the place in which one’s domestic affections are centered. an institution for the homeless, sick, etc.: a nursing home. the place or region where something is native or most common. (in games) the destination or goal.
as i am sure my perception of the word has changed a numerous amount of times when i was well aware and sometimes subconsciously, i can tell you my interpretation now…
Its all a fucking game to me. Life is a game. Its up to you whether you win or lose. Home is my goal…Home is my destination. Life is the journey to HOME. and no this aint no emo shit where im telling you that life is the journey to your death…im not manic deppresant where i would refer to death as home…because it is clearly not my goal to die. But HOME…something so simple that you all refer to as your HOUSE or your CITY. but a house is a house. a house is something you live in and spend most of your time in whether you are just sleeping in it because of your hectic schedule and you wish you could spend more time in. A house is a house….a place you invite people over and have family gatherings. A city is a city. Its the place you LIVE in. So what is home?
home is my destination, home is my goal. I repeat this to myself so maybe somehow i would start to brainstorm in what my goals actually are or if i even have any. I believe goals are not things you should do or what society tells you you have to do…but something you NEED to do…for yourself. Something so fucking selfish that it satisfies you. Something you feel you NEED to do because without it you couldnt possibly be complete.
what completes me?
this completes me…each word you see typed across this damn screen is what completes me. passion completes me…feeling it, living it, being it, and doing it. with every bone in my body. Music completes me. It makes me sane or rather sometimes crazy. It eases my pain occasionally, it triggers sorrow mostly. It inspires me to write these fucking blog entries, these stupid poems…my feelings raw and uncut across this screen for all of you to see. This is ME. this is what completes me. this is who i am. Take it or leave it…but fucking do something with it…please.