(This whole piece happened as I was trying to set the perfect scene for my mind, as I was preparing to write a piece dedicated to someone- my mother probably- my thoughts and my mind have a conversation,,,) my mind is very good at listening and my thoughts, they think a lot…
I believe it is hard to write something meaningful because I am not sad.
Mind: “Not true.”
I am constantly thinking “who will read it?”, “what will they think?”, “will they be inspired?”
But then again…
….what am I doing?
I am starting to lose the plot.
I am writing for you? who?
All of you are so differnt and like all sorts of things, so who do I write for, and who not?
(AAAAAH) leave my mind.
I see your face…you, you, you…ah
where is my face?
(thinking really hard, then relaxing the brain)
I still have not found the face, the face behind what I would write.
So why write?
Is that why I have not been able to find meaning?
(thinking and getting a frown on my fore, in deep thought)
I have found the sign..
I am not sad, I am not soggy, I am not depressed,
I am happy and glad and alive.
So let me write….TO MYSELF.
THE CLOSURE TO MYSELF~