I've got hundreds of images in my head trying to be born...
I've got dozens of half lines, joted down...
I've got one, strong, buring need to get something out of me...
But it's just not happening.
For every reaction you have...there is that initial action that sets it off. Something would happen, I'd write. The thing is...the majority of my "somethings" came from the same source...and now that that part of me is...for lack of better words, dead...is that part of me dead as well.
When you write for others, and not for yourself...when those others are no longer there...how does that effect you and your creating?
I guess looking at my blank pages, and half scribbled lines...I already know the answer.




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"Not everybody gets corrupted. You have to have a little faith in people." ~Manhattan
"There can be no understanding between the hand and the brain unless the heart acts as mediator." ~Metropolis
most wonderful work !~I hope to continue reading some more when you update. Miss ya ~<3
see ya online
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*livingpoetsociety
~LPSworkshop
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"Good teaching is 1/3 preparation and 3/4 theater" - Gail Goodwin
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"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night."
-Edgar Allan Poe
dance party, baby.
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"Good teaching is 1/3 preparation and 3/4 theater" - Gail Goodwin
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