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CONVERSATIONS WITH MYSELF
conversations with myself. or rather with other people that i imagine. that's the way that i really think. sit me down with a pen and paper and i could very well just sit there and stare at it for hours; maybe after this cigarette i'll be able to write; maybe after i eat something; maybe just one more tv show to calm my mind. maybe never. i think a lot about the psychic that told me that my true calling, the very best way for me to express my feelings, hasn't even been invented yet. where does that put a girl? floating aimlessly around, pent up emotions filling me. no release. no release. no release. except for the conversations in my head. the conversations where i sort all my shit out. the conversations where i control all the questions. i do my best work when there's some sort of perceived audience that i can control; someone i can talk to. maybe that's what i should be doing when i try to write. ask myself questions and honestly answer myself. maybe i'll try it. i'll keep you posted. |