relevantswitch

One thought occured to me at half past three. . . amazing how sometimes Robert Smith can come up with the perfect line to sum up ones life? I sat in front of the blinking of my computer late last night trying to open up what I was hoping would be a flood gate of thought, only to find less than a trickle of images coming from my mind to my fingers. I think I've been caught up in the world of wanting to be too witty, or wanting my words to take on a life beyond their own that I've lost the reason for writing. To inspire emotion is too broad of a stroke for it, I guess I want to get back to writing for the purpose of clearing my head. I just want whatever is bouncing around inside to come out on paper. Everyone who writes goes through a stage where they forget that they write for themselves and start trying to find a target. Fuck the target, forget the audience, and just write. Seems simple enough but the more that I think about it, the less I want to write. This episode brought to you by the number zero, the letter O and a circle. . . seems like all of my conversations end where they started. . . grrrr.....