Originally Posted by Ganj
My mind screams in poetic tongue anxious to be heard. My text comes to you naked and exposed, an attempt to sway your hearts and summon all concentration to me...I have crooned you here today to make form of this curse that plagues minds.
Abolished from reality and placed in a room to view my reflection. To leave no stone unturned-no word is spoken only once. Recite, recite, recite. Make this ancient dialect your peril. Stare out the peephole, there is a criminal at the door. Open it. Now he's yours.
Greetings, everyone.
Sometimes...I write. I know it's not very good, but I like to think of it as "creative journaling." It's somewhat personal and expressed through a "channel" that desires attention, beauty, and recognition. It is a clouded description of myself, as it is the very cloud that dulls my life. Thinking too much is irony at it's finest.