four years ago i started a blog.
october 2006 to be precise.
four years ago i was an emotional wreck.
some bastard raped me, which wasn’t so nice.
i had a counselor who told me to talk.
i had a church that told me to get lost.
i was angry back then.
i wanted to kill the pain at any cost.
i was told that writing was important.
so then i figured everyone should read it.
sometimes i wrote good things.
most of the time it was emotional vomit.
things that some people have called genius.
i just called it mindless, retarded shit.
i wrote a lot in rhyme.
that way people couldn’t judge me.
i wrote a lot, all the time.
except when i was happy, or numb without feeling.
at the time i thought i was meant to be something.
sometimes i just thought.
sometimes i wanted to be happy.
because happiness is something that can’t be caught.
i’ve been wrong before.
i’ve been wrong a lot.
i’m in love with love.
because it’s something that can’t be bought.
unless you’re rich.
which i am not.
if you’ve read my words, i thank you.
the idea of you has cured my soul.
one day i hope to be published.
until then, i will quietly pursue that goal.
i will write here for years to come.
in rhyme, or just in rant.
and believe in myself and love.
except on those days that i can’t.
(Previous published June 19, 2010 on Coffee & Cigarettes)
