A blank text box, heart racing, fingers typing – highlight, erase, rinse and repeat.
But I don’t have an angle..
What if people read this?
What if they don’t?
How can I spin my life into something more interesting than simplicity: working, and loving, and living?
Maybe I don’t want to.
Maybe there is an angle in the mundane and ordinary, the wandering thoughts of a
n aspiring writer.
All of these demons dance in my head, stopping the flow of ideas.
Do you think you’re a poet laureate?
Do you think you’re special?
Do you need to be special to write?
I will breathe words onto this space – collect and immortalize my thoughts, my rants, my dreams, my boredom, excitement, inspiration. I will bleed onto the keyboard. This. is. who. I. am.