Well its nice to know I messed it up again.
Every time I start transitioning back from monkey to man
The only time I feel alive, inside is with paper and pen
But this does not compute, system failure
Pen or a pad, its a wounds healer
But my mind is gone
And I look over my shoulder,
To find a world that left me long ago
And mine that is cold, and getting colder.
Where do I see myself in five years?
Well not here,
Definitely not here
What kind of career have I made for myself?
I’m more in debt then I’ve ever been,
And what have I become
A drone, another clone
A work horse,
Put out to pasture
Why can’t they pay me for writing chapter after chapter
Doing things better, doing things faster,
More more more,
This is the worst, could be worse I guess
But really I hope there is more to life then this
My dream job would be to write for
A journal, a magazine, poetry and prose,
And current events. Sports and business
Maybe I should take a tutorial
And get out of this toilet bowl.
Go back to school
For something I can use,
Spend more money, but I refuse to quit
This rhyming poetics, is my life force
Its what I breathe with.
Its like if life is my lungs, then I am a surrogate
And each word I write, makes me breathe a little bit
More Poet! More!
Out out brief candle.
Don’t listen to this asshole,
Why are you listening to me even?
I’m just living and breathing
But as a poet. I’m barely teething.
What about this lyrical accent,
I just like to dance around the mountain
Till I cause an avalanche.
Yeah, yeah, yeah…
Get back to work, poet.
Sent: Wednesday, May 01, 2013 4:17 PM
To: Jason Wright
Whenever I am feeling down I enjoy looking at pictures of unicorns…I hope this helps!