I’ve gathered many unpublished posts I wrote lately. Every post just seems to have different mood, and they just seem like a screamish 13 year old girl wrote them. Especially post about me seeing a cute guy in town who ended up speaking to me. Post is so screamish and full of excitement and thats really not a part of me that I’d share. Sounds so childish, and by writing here I am trying to prove myself exactly the opposite. Those screamish posts I wrote are something that my best friend should be hearing, not half of the world.
Two views daily… Half of the world.. Close enough.
Lets sort topics in colors, colors as in what color matches which mood:
Black; Deep holes of depression, describing an alarming event that happened, speaking about lowest lows of your life, literally pulling the pain out of yourself.
Gray; Common disappointment in world, mostly in people. Chilled out subject about how everything sucks and nothing really matters and blah blah. Whats even the point of life?
Not white, but lighter shade of gray; Enjoying the peaceful nature with no people in background ruining the moment, the feeling at 6 am outside. Finding inspiration in little things. Like smells, rain, cold black night with no wind to ruin the atmosphere and the light coming only from the moon. Dreaming.
Blue; I don’t know..
Any other color; I don’t know…
Other colors are just too happy. They are describing something happy. All the best writers or poets I worship are very dark in soul. Those strong, deep and meaningful poems are the ones that mostly get to you. Not the happy ones that talk about an apple on the tree which fox is looking at.. While describing similar scene with some less colorful words, it would probably get to you a bit more. A tree in the snowless winter, frozen, naked and suffering. Waiting for just another season to pass, wondering when will finally this infinite circle of pain and healing finally be over. Bored. In the spot. Stuck.
“For many poets, their most productive periods are when something is going wrong in their lives. Some of the best poets I know have somewhat chaotic lives, the pain which they turn into art.
The flip side of that are the very enthusiastic and happy poets who see and appreciate beauty in many things. They’re still motivated by an expression of emotion, but it’s a positive emotion. “
You get my point? My life seems to be too colorful lately, I don’t like that. But it’s about to be winter, all the beauty of weather and the warm, dark atmosphere inside should do the thing. If that doesn’t inspire my emotions and words to flow -I don’t know what will.