Finding My Voice

I wish I picked up a poetry or creative writing class.

Developing a voice while writing is hard.
Sometimes I feel like I got it then I think I lose it.

I gotta get back to just writing my thoughts in a poetic fashion.
I'm making this shit too easy for you to understand.
Whoever you are.

I watched John Dies At The End again and dear goodness...
Need to buy that book again and keep it.
I do this dumb thing where if I buy a book from Barnes and Noble, I'll return it after I finish reading it.

Textbooks from University have left me jaded.

But where was I? Oh yeah, so the movie was on and I thought about parts from the book they cut out and
it was one scene in particular that was very scary...scary cause it's real...real cause this is a perfect example of what the author was talking about.

You, whoever you are, don't even know what I look like.
You can only make up my image from what you think and read.
And as you stare at me, unknowing, I look back at you, unaware.
This thing is a mirror to me. A radio series to you.

And you, whoever you are, who do know what I look like, who know who I am, whose curiosity/boredom has you running your mouse to the link that takes you to these channel,
well...
it's different.
You stare at me, quietly and knowledgeable. I look back at you, clueless.
This thing is a mirror to me. Commentary to you.


Later Days, Longer Nights