My passions are the steroids of my life...
(single-minded to the point of recklessness)
No matter where I find myself...or lose myself...wandering or deliberately walking away..
Even if I feel the world compressing me
like the dingy offwhite walls
as if I was insignificant
as if my voice didn't matter
as if closing my mouth could make me stop talking
Is everything meaningless?
if I help out a stranger. Help my friend
If i change the world just by picking up my pen
Is everything meaningless?
no matter where you put me...or lose me...drop me into the crevices of the earth or toss me in the ocean like a stone
just bite the bullet and recognize the world as it truly is...the filth we have made it
(The soul of a writer is so sensitive,
Each mood, breath, tear, laughter, smile, earthquake, thunderstorm
Is beautiful)
Each beauty breaks my heart
And words can't even put it back together
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