first journal entry
instinct (n. in'stingkt; adj. in*stingkt') n. 1.) Biol. & Psychol. An innate tendency or response of a given species to act in ways that are essential to its existence, development, and preservation. 2.) A natural aptitude; knack - adj. Animated from within; alive.
Today I posted 3 new poems and decided to begin this journal. "Planet Suicide", "The Life Of The Heart", and "Love Is Like An Onion" are the poems I posted. I am now deciding to post 3 poems every 2 weeks (let's see how long that idea lasts). I have too much I want shared and the more I write the more I feel like sharing. Things get shuffled around in the forums frequently and wonder if my old poems will ever get read upon like I do to the older one's that become forgotten by people who just want to post and have their threads read. I don't understand that, if you have a passion for feelings, why not read all you can? There are many great poets in the poetry forum, too bad many don't want to discover them like I have or have tried. Years of poetry here to read.
I have also posted some protests. All I ever hear in them is complaining and not enough action being taken. The people protesting have the knowledge right in front of them but it's just bitching. So I might give up on that forum, I kind of now see it as protests=bitching. I wish it could be another way like protests=taking action to prevent the wrongs.
Well, time is running out. Back to the life of observation and instinctual behaviour until the next journal entry...okay, so I've gone back and changed some things in this entry. Sometimes things don't make sense in your mind after you read them and sometimes it takes time to realize your errors (ie. spelling). The computerized update malfunctioned the last time I updated this entry so the original entry was lost, can't remember all of what I put. (damn it!). When you live a life of instincts, things can change rapidly.