Tuesday, September 28
writing is weird.
it's weird because although writing is a form of expression that allows me to let go,
and allows me to vent a lot of the ugly things inside me
(a part of the ugly dwells interminably, i have no doubt..),
it also creates an ugly -
writing makes and breaks.
so I'm walking through an alley,
I'm climbing the stairs,
I'm having a conversation,
an unbelievable itch breaks out in my body
and the moment the itch hits, i know what it is : the rant of the day.
it's so unpredictable, so inevitable, and so ingenious
that I have to remember the itch and why it came.
i have to record the topic that came to me, or else, I'm doomed for all eternity.
if i don't get it when it was given,
if i just let it go like an irresponsible idiot,
i'll know i let it slip.
and i'll remember with horror that i gave up on the chance to spill my heart out
on something worth spilling one's heart out.
i think that's a grammatical glitch just there.
and that's when I thought of David:
"That shit don't mean fuck to me"
- David Sedaris