don't really have a title or anything for it...any comments would be appreciated.. i'm being slowly torn apart. i live my life in this fog of apathetic nothingness a haze of hate or something. oh...god... i am so uninspired. tear up another page. throw it away; begin again. how do i get rid of this emptiness when it's all i have left? there is nothing for me in this anarchy that i call a soul. i live my life, i live a lie, oh go ahead ask me again ARE YOU OK? no. i'm not ok and neither are you. our world will shatter, people will die. and in the end, it won't even matter. it's the first thign i've written in awile...um, yeah, go ahead and comment whatever you think. i'd really like some feedback. it was kind of all over the place but whatever... <3kit kat.
hmmm ... miss kit kat ... your right ... we haven't seen anything new for a while ... gotta get out of the "haze of hate" honey and then maybe just maybe the emptiness can be replaced by something more positive ... we are what we think sweetie ... the buddah said ... "if you give hate you will receive hate ... but of you give love you will receive love ..." mwaaaah! J
This is nonsense. I have to criticize both the poet and the critic today :-/ As for the critic, how does someone "get out" of a nihilistic or moody condition? This talk of simply throwing away the shackles of angst and pain for bliss is absurd. As a morbid and apathetic guy myself, I have dealt with people's "stop being unhappy" shit, and I'll have you know, it's the worst kind of harrassment. Furthermore, unhappiness does NOT hinder art. I revel in dark, depressing music and writing, and I find that these kind of feelings make for great personal expression. If you're a cynic or a brooding, disgruntled type, then persue this. Be yourself. To be brutally honest, there's nothing very interesting in this poem. Don't let that discourage you though. You're young, and like you said, you haven't written anything in a while. Remember you commented on that "poem to change the world"? Go back to tha thread. I left him some comments that could also be applicable to you. A lot of your poem is very "depressed teenager-ish". I have to say my writing also has some of that vibe to it, but with your lack-luster vocabulary (again, you're young) and without anything unique, this work comes off as very amature- but so what? Just keep writing. I like your preference for darkness. Work with that, and try to progress. If I were to find one particularly strong complaint, it's at the end here: i live my life, i live a lie, oh go ahead ask me again ARE YOU OK? no. i'm not ok and neither are you. our world will shatter, people will die. and in the end, it won't even matter. So basically you're saying "life sucks and then you die", but the problem is is thatyou say it in such an unsinspired, matter of fact kind of way. There's very little art in it... yet. Again, look at the complaints I left that other guy, and even morei mportantly, keep at it.
that emptiness can be scary, so rather than embrace it, we embrace our emotions. as negative as they may be, they're something we know and it's easier to be depressed than to be nothing at all. i must say, however, that if you are depressed about this nothingness, you're alot closer to finding something meaningful than those that are depressed for far more trivial reasons. negativity aside, i agree with the guy above me in some ways. revel in the state you are in and pull something unique out of it. passion isn't comfortable. i would even say these two things are polar opposites. you're a good writer. there's no point in writing when you are uninspired. no point in forcing it. you've got to delve beyond what is comfortable in your mind and your life before you have something worth writing about, right? after you've done that, i think that you will know just how to express yourself.
I like it! It is honest! Big words, as in a thesaurus-like vocabulary, does not equal "BIG" art. Art is from the heart, your life's condition, your emotions about it, and an honest expression of that. Damn "The Authorities!" All they set are limits -- for others! And everybody likes something different any way. Keep being Honest! Big heart -- happy or sad = Big Art.
Today I had to work. When I got home I took a nap on the couch with the sun shining in and the t.v. politely blaring. What followed was one of the strangest most vivid dreams I've ever had, not to mention at some point during this nap I think I may have astrolly projected. I wanted to write my dream down for the to deep for you to fathom memories. Since it would have taken me forever I decided the best way to describe it would be what you might call a poem. NA faithfuls would refer to this as a "using dream." Two drug riddled blondes. The sun shine is proper. 2 bags of color changing pills inside a pair of addidas cross trainers. Inside a box? Beautiful curious by standers. A nervous knock on a door which opens to another open door. Clothes and junk are all over the floor. There lies the second whore. One half acne one half innocence. Does she even remember? no. She's too weak to flabbergast even though not much time has passed. A question about drugs sparks the memory of a one night stand and a vague video store adventure. Did I mention there's more where that came from? The sun shine is sooo proper. I plan to return but plans often shatter hopes. I enter an anxious family gathering with a larger than normal mother and a lonely daughter. No sign of any of the others. Litter boxes and loving demands. I'm busy with the intent to distribute. Panic arises over the normal surprises and the desire for a scrabble game. I escape to a sanctuary within the domicile where I have crashed. I'm occupied by a mild intoxity that will soon change, and the shape shifting toxins in my mouth. My fix turns food than to an afro hair-ball, than a blood or vomit. I'm too fucked up to tell. The ghost of a living re-incarnate manifests, and describes a lost soul. Heaven becomes purgatory when my legs don't work. "Keep it down Weezy you'll get me caught. I'm going to get laid later. That's better but..." WHAT WORLD IS THIS!!!!!!!! By now you either have a deep understanding of this experience or you don't have a clue. Either way I bet I just blew your MIND! If you want to know what this was all about I will tell you. If you don't, that's fine too. Regardless, I would be interested in your interpretations. Here are a couple other so so poems that I wrote fairly recently: Necessity is the key element in death, and it always wins. Help is given to whores and kids by forgiving souls. Be one, be whole, be universal. Would Jesus do me? Is your saviour the harbinger of deep seeded blasphemy? Milk your mind boxes and do your best to forget. Once upon a time love was innocent. Veins dance to the tast of cancer. While the springtime fills hearts with joy. The love bugs care not that the flies eat shit. Liaks think the poor prey on the rich. Here comes the reality switch. Life was simple when it could be summed up with "Lifes a bitch." Now and days beggars are forced to borrow so they can live thru tomorrows sorrows, and the entity within searches for a friend. Let me know what your thougts are on these two. One love, Chris
Hey Chris, You're supposed to start your own thread - not hijack some else's. Very disrespectful man!
You know, this is very close to how I'm feeling in my own life right now. Completely uninspired by everything. I'm even going to get rid of my music equipment today. You are right, ask and ask, no...nothing is o.k. and in the end it really doesn't matter. So true.
"how do i get rid of this emptiness, when it's all i have left?" i really really do like that line. oh how so many times i have felt that before...keep on writin'!
