Fucking just need to write, and I wonder what those first five words will seem like when someone comes back to them in forty years and reads this. Will they think I’m mad or happy or crazy or already lost it? I don’t know, can’t know, always I’m pretending to know. And I want to … Continue reading Questions
Thinking Inkly
Another Apology (and rightfully so)
I am sorryI know that I owe you an apologymy wine stained mind hasenough sense to say,That I know I owe you an apologyat some point I started tofade slowly away from youlike I was Marty McFlytrying to save my own lifeAnd slowly but surely watching myexistence erase and snub outI owe more to you,I … Continue reading Another Apology (and rightfully so)
Thinking Inkly: Hoping that the Assumptions Will Pass With the Dying of the Night
I've been trying to find a balance between it all. The work, the work, the play, the writing, the meditation, the feeling of necessity to read more, etc. I think you all know the feeling. The overwhelming weight that presses down on you even when you are doing something that should be shedding that weight. … Continue reading Thinking Inkly: Hoping that the Assumptions Will Pass With the Dying of the Night
Thinking Inkly: Some Spilled Thoughts and a Quick Thank You
It's so strange to me, I've been doing a lot less writing lately and I'm definitely feeling how it's taking its toll on my general livelihood. For a long time, I thought that I would be ok with just writing every once in a while and keeping it as a casual thing but since I've … Continue reading Thinking Inkly: Some Spilled Thoughts and a Quick Thank You
Twenty-Three (or “Twenty-One” Revisited)
Twenty-three. Twenty-two. He's the age of shocking discoveries. Pushing himself to limits that set him back into loops of ecstasy and months of couch ridden recoveries. Drowning himself in lavender and tea tree oil, he meditates his brain into a submissive pulp and the world smiles back by slowly and softly responding to every fifth … Continue reading Twenty-Three (or “Twenty-One” Revisited)
Thinking Inkly: Looking For You, Wherever You Are
It's difficult to sit down and just write anything. there are confines, rules, set regulations that come to the tips of the fingers when one deems it time to create. It's as if something immediately wedges itself between the keyboard and the brain. And what's between the keyboard and you? I can't quite say. Infinite … Continue reading Thinking Inkly: Looking For You, Wherever You Are
Thinking Inkly: A Little Anxiety and Some Thoughts
Dear Reader, I've been told that it's difficult to always be reading poetry; that there is a great reward in finding a meaning in a poem, but that the meaning is often difficult to come by and can often make people feel stupid or lost [possibly insulted somehow] if they don't get it. I've been … Continue reading Thinking Inkly: A Little Anxiety and Some Thoughts
