Thursday, May 05, 2005

The nights are mine, in this insomniac city

Sitting in this chair, glancing over at my bed. Wondering why I'm spending more time in one and not the other. My fingers and brain need to cooperate more often. If they do, then all the greatness my mind sees for me will transfer to this page. All I have are unfinished ideas waiting for me to stop being afraid. I can think back to days when it all came out so easily. You couldn't provide me with enough paper, for me to fill with every creative thought I had in me. From poems to raps, and from paintings to screenplays. I miss the inspiration I provided myself back then, but I know it's still there. I just have to let go.

posted by psychobabbler @ 3:07 AM