Jeroun
09-17-2007, 12:53 PM
I didn't know where to post this: it's not a short story, not a poem or anything. I just wrote this down one night: it's not that special but I just thought I'd post it here.
----------------------------------
I've filled so many pages. Pages filled with words but they lead to nothing. Blocknotes have been wasted on my writing. I have wasted far too much time on my writing. Time of which I have too many. Too much time to think, to doubt every single word, every single syllable, every white space, every dot that I write. I always begin to doubt these things when I've got too much time. It's not that what I write is horrible. In fact; it's not that bad at all. The problem is that I seem to be the only one who likes it. It doesn't seem to matter how good my melodies are, how well written my lines are. Nobody seems to notice; nobody seems to take the time to notice. It drives me to desperation, IT DRIVES ME MAD! Do you know that feeling? You know what you're doing is good but yet nothing happens. Nothing ever happens. To escape that feeling you write more: you just keep on writing and believing that the next one will put you on the map. The next filled page will make people notice you. But they never do. This is the everyday life. This is how I spent my days and nights every single second of my life.
--------------------
----------------------------------
I've filled so many pages. Pages filled with words but they lead to nothing. Blocknotes have been wasted on my writing. I have wasted far too much time on my writing. Time of which I have too many. Too much time to think, to doubt every single word, every single syllable, every white space, every dot that I write. I always begin to doubt these things when I've got too much time. It's not that what I write is horrible. In fact; it's not that bad at all. The problem is that I seem to be the only one who likes it. It doesn't seem to matter how good my melodies are, how well written my lines are. Nobody seems to notice; nobody seems to take the time to notice. It drives me to desperation, IT DRIVES ME MAD! Do you know that feeling? You know what you're doing is good but yet nothing happens. Nothing ever happens. To escape that feeling you write more: you just keep on writing and believing that the next one will put you on the map. The next filled page will make people notice you. But they never do. This is the everyday life. This is how I spent my days and nights every single second of my life.
--------------------