sad samples

At times, writing and I must take a break. This is not writing's fault, however. Instead, it's me sitting back and reevaluating my numerous beliefs about writing I have created for myself over the span of eight years or so. For my short life so far, that is quite a bit. Many of my beliefs have come about to protect my freedom within' what I must say for myself.

Sitting through college studying writing has in some ways, hindered further growth in my own voice and this bothers me. Despite all that I have learned the only time anything good comes around is when it is ready. Nothing more, nothing less. Learning forms has ruined me and above all else, I do not believe that "rules can only be broken" after you learn the form. Form is constructed and is illusory.

I guess that's why, upon all of the muddled personal business that came out of moving to Kansas City, I have found myself rejecting any instance of anyone expressing a kind of form they think I should adopt whether it be my life or through writing. Writing for me is a place that is formless and not worth explaining. Sadly, I am stuck "studying" it and receiving "advice" from those who have adopted the typical English character who seems more focused on form than spirit. Unfortunately, my writing has been reflecting this oppression on my voice and I just simply don't know what else to do about it. Part of me wonders if I will ever get it back again or if I should just accept the inevitable death upon it. I mean, having a voice requires some bit of construction, but not this much. Not so much that one doesn't have one.

My poor voice, quivering in bed sucking on a cherry popsicle. My poor voice would kill for a shower, for a vacation. Ah, my voice. I am a mess, I bury myself under messy riffs and vague lyrics flopping like a rainbow guppy on empty ground.

I'd rather do without questions.