1. I've been writing a lot lately,on both paper and the laptop,and the latter feels like infidelity,because there's a certain feeling that is ignited when I use a 2B pencil,but mostly I've been ranting,about anything and everything,pop culture and the news are such difficult things to chase,how would it feel if a creation of yours got superseded so easily.

2. Nearly everything has lost its luster,there is not enough of the bold,extraordinary and artistic. I don't see any value in a life that isn't lived boisterously,any image that is polished and speaks to a sensibility,I'm not talking about the commercialized,worthless junk that is Lady Gaga's hyper-experimental street persona,but men and women who in every choice made,are fighting for something,or have overcome and won a personal fear.

3. Poetry is something I wrestle with,so many of it is just words and talking,but recently I read something by Sylvia Plath and cried a bit,how does one capture so much and keep it neatly into clean lines,presented on white,hefty sheets.

4. A friend recently did something completely out of character,it was bizarre,he kept to himself locked up in his room for a while,though I only got to meet him after this phase was over.How unchangeable do you think you are,how do you know that one day you will lose out to an overbearing sad feeling,that it will take you,keep you caged for many days,and spit you out a slightly different person?

5. I am writing with my hands at a very uncomfortable angle,hence the awkward,jutting prose,but thank you for those who have been my inspiration this week,something needs to be done soon,before I go crazy and its too late to realize it.


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