I shall write.

in prose •  7 years ago  (edited)

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Lately, I've been waiting for the rain to come.
I like the rain. I like the smell of it, and how it turns everything green.
I always leave my window open during rain showers.

Here, I find myself given, by God, the tool that is the Written Word.
I feel as if it's some sick joke played upon me by the guy himself,
that in an age of musical instruments, bedroom studios
and multitudes of cameras, I now choose to bang out
words on my Cherry MX Blue-switched mechanical keyboard.

Maybe its the anonymity of writing that entices me.

Maybe its simply due to the fact that I live in a matchbox,
and I find myself unable to make an ounce of noise in case
a roommate or the neighbours decide to listen in.

I have never been one to step in front of a camera.
I have attempted to make multiple youtube videos,
to film myself playing an instrument,
to release music that nobody is ever going to hear,
however to write the truth out on a screen
in which nobody is going to see my face
or hear the trembling of my voice?

It sounds like something I would much prefer, after all.

I sit here, upset, broken, and penniless.
I wait for the world to find me, and shower me with adoration.

That, or I wait for the weight of the world to crush me.

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