By my estimation not too many people read these blogs of mine, hence my reason for not posting too many, but I was thinking lately, and the better I feel regards my OCD the more I’m able to see what it is I might actually like to get out of this whole writing thing. I mean, I didn’t always like it, found the whole punctuation process frustrating to a point where I fell out with the enjoyment from reading a book, to this day reading is an absolute chore for me, which is probably a very good test as to my capabilities if I do end up enjoying reading one of my own poems, which I have been doing of late. Maybe it’s a little, I dunno, cocky, but it seems I only trust myself to come out with the kind of book in the end that everyone will want to read, and if not everyone then more people than read any other book out there, bible, Harry Potter included. So ya, I most definitely want for people to come up to me, be it on the street or wherever, and tell me how impressed they are by my poetry, which I need to get inside a book to finally get to call myself a writer, poet, whichever. I want for these poems that I have taken to writing everyday to move people in a way that has never worked for me when it comes to reading. I know people think writing an odd process, at least I think I do, people to be hellbent on one thing it a little even perhaps selfish. I don’t know, there is probably a definite degree of selfishness, not to mention attention-seeking involved, and MOST definitely a need for reassurance. So I’ll write on, I know something seems to be happening but I’m finally seeing what people always meant when they said that writing is a lonely pursuit, it’s you on your laptop trying to build an audience all round, and even then if you manage that it’s still mostly via the internet, so you still end up alone at your laptop. So, I’m accepting of the fact I’m learning as I go alone. Only a relatively lonely path though.
- Understanding the need for Speed
- The Penalty Shootout inside of their mInDs
- Abandoned tRaGedIeS.
- ~ Nearer to the Agreeable Distribution of People.
- The TypeTracks Of A Supernatural Life Perhaps.
- Strangers in ParaDICE — happyheaded and Utterly UnSettLeD . Like a candle, she feeds the fLaMe
- Interviewing the Devil’s BestFriend
Utter WoRlD throUgh a coined and CottoningON catchphrase))
- The theory of taking it all away
- “Impossible to WhO(?!?)”
- 1983 . Before and after Orwell
- That final moment Right Before Greatness . That fundamental state of leading the PiGs to the MarKet and Pissing AllOver ThE Baker’s Cakes While we’re at It .
- The Smile That Held ItsOwn
- ‘Belligerent bastards and their nose dive for survival’
- Stylised Surroundings .
- A complicated Creation
- Laugh, whisper… and ScReaM(!!) There’s Your SeeSaw Of Guffaws Set For Survival
- Filtered feelings
- “Causing a constant state of irreparable CreAtiOn, maybe(?)”
- A makeshift pen at the corners of her BEST~brain
- “Let’s Swim.” Like gin&ToNiC superHeroes
- RaaaaaaaaGing Bulls of Ethiopia
- -No Country For Creation
- Dedicated to Silencing the loudest mind Alive ~ “that thing called complete comprehension”
- Compliments aWrY
- Pressurised insides sInG iT so silently sometimes.
- The words were hiding UP~stairs all along – inside of their mesmerised minds, and bum~crawling back to life.. One Butt~Cheek At A Time
- Staring at a distraction And Creating anyway
- Dusting down the CobWebs and creating a crest of a wAvE
- As Pretty As A Picture Of A Decorative Disaster . She took her very own breath away whilst single-mindedly being.. ALL KINDS OF SIMULTANEOUS
- —- they do not move like you and we
- Running on Opportunistic . When the show must go
- Inspired by Dostoyevskian Apprehensions
- The 668 Alienation ~
- Nine channels of illUStrative~interpret(A)tion
- Entering Inside of the Painting and PuNcHinG WaY AbOvE ThEiR wEiGhT anyway ~~
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