I crave fistfuls of it
Because my inner life
Is less real than I thought
I know that I didn't
Have to go to college
But I felt like I did
I felt like I had to
I feel feel feel
Like many things
Are demanded of me
It is very interesting trying to force things to come out. Very interesting to try and make myself write weird things or interesting things.
I won't erase the things I wrote above. I'm going to post them. But I don't really like them. They don't mean much to me. They were kind of about the songs I was listening to as I wrote them. They were kind of about me.
I just wonder so much about how certain types of expression come out of me. Whether I really need to put my mind towards ruminating on poetry and stuff, letting it come out.
I think the key lies in imitation. I need to read more poetry.
I probably feel most at home writing about philosophy because that is what I read. Because, honestly, that is the type of writing that comes out of me most easily. Abstract prose about the 'real world'. Poetry comes less easily.
I wonder when I'll read more poetry.
I wonder when I'll write more poetry.
Or fiction for that matter.
Still haven't read any fiction since November.
What to do, what to do.