You know, just make music, art, words, life. No time restraints. Just making beautiful masterpieces of thought, life, and love. I'm always afraid to star my drawings, or go to the next level because I always feel like I'll screw it up. But then I start. And I don't ever stop.
I haven’t written in a while.
I have a copious amount of sweet sayings.
But they aren’t together.
I just need to write.
And sing.
And dance.
And steal things.
Or not, being that I wish to be originally creative and all. But alas, we as humans steal everything that we do.
I don’t know, man. Well, I do. I know who I am, but I want to find myself. I’m constantly changing. I know who I am right now. I don’t know who I’ll be tomorrow. We wake up each day different. There I go, stealing words. But words are meant to be stolen, aren't they? I think so. What if I just looked inside myself and found who I am to be; the person I will be in the future. The person after me. Me as me, just an adult me. Who is that to be? Rhyme, rhyme. Do statements lose their significance in a rhyme? Maybe thought to be too pre planned, or only to be used as a one time stand? Oh, there is another one. No, I’m not really trying at all. This is all flowing from my interwoven brain complexes of inhaled thought. This thought has not yet been exhaled. Hello partially exhaled thought. It is nice to meet you.
I feel like I’m beginning to lose me, while at the same time remembering who I am and all that I stand for. I am a kid that happened upon living in my own malleable reality. I play music. I make art. I furnish words. I be me.
That in it’s greatest sense.
I am that I am and I am that I’m not and that is enough.
