Sunday, March 13, 2005

ink on the blank page

today was a green day for me. i dislike the fact that specific colors have become stereotypical representations of particular emotions. no, i wasn't jealous. today i was overcome with sadness. but i am most certain that it was not a blue day. today i was green. it must be, not cats and dogs. it's pouring hopelessness. the same way fat drops of acidic rain plop and slowly slide down the window, encasing a much larger diameter of the glass' surface with its wetness at the end of its journey...the hopelessness started at the apex of my heart and casually crept south, spreading its jaded candor across my soul.

my life seems to have lost its focus. it's been so long since i felt driven that i can't even remember the last time it was purposeful. what is 'purpose' anyway? something to live for? i don't think that could be terribly stable - placing your life's worth on the shoulders of a noun.

this is the first journal i've kept in years. beth attributes my life's shortcomings to the fact that i haven't been writing. when she accidentally stumbled onto that knowledge, she proclaimed, "what the fuck?! no wonder you're miserable! not writing for you is akin to not taking a shit in three years!" so with spontaneous implosion on my horizon, i decided i better take action. so here we are.

my carnal need to write has never left me. my bookshelves are filled with new journals. i never stopped looking for them. i just stopped filling them. one day i simply found that i didn't know what to say anymore. my inspiration had somehow snuck out of the back door. or maybe it was never there to begin with.

i just want to disappear into the sky.

1 comment:

Jas... said...

Not to seem like I'm nosy or anything, but have you written any books yet? If so, where do I purchase one? You're prose is refreshing! Please continue, if you don't mind a reader looking over your shoulder.