Om Nom Nom

Doubling up again for this month. I sometimes see people walking around on the street who inspire me, not because of who they are or the amazing altruistic deeds that they have done, just the image of them and how I can see a bit of myself in them. Needless to say, the person who was walking along the street was holding sugar cane. It then clicked that it was actually sugar cane season, and I remembered the long afternoons sitting outside gnawing at the bamboo-like outer shell to get to the sweet fibrous sugary goodness in the middle. My gums would always end up being ripped to shreds and bleeding by the end of the ordeal, but somehow it was worth it. This next piece is somewhat of a comparison of that experience.

Parental Guidance is Advised

After much consideration, I've decided to cut the bull and kick my writing into high gear. I've had a bit of a block for the kast two months, and it recently dawned upon me that maybe I'm trying too hard to get the words right. Theoretically they ahould just flow out, right? Well... That's where things get a little dizzy. See, I find value in vulgar language. It makes writing and understanding how people feel a lot easier and it also manages to pack quite a punch when it comes to imagery. I have included some vulgar language in my writings but not nearly enough to fully depict what the state of my mind was at the time of inception. This being said, it isn't a deliverate practice that I am looking to engage in, it's something that I'm more likely to throw in for added effect without fear or inhibition. I've been trying to keep my work quiet, laid back and non-aggresive, but really that isn't as accurate a representation as I would like. The real stories that I want to tell are dark and with a few curses here and there, they seem to allow things to fall into place quite nicely. With that being said, I feel like my block will unblock itself with time and with determination, introspection and some solid hours putting pen to paper (or typing, really). Like most ideas though, this one didn't come from nowhere. I recently reread a poem I wrote at the end of 2013 (i think) and I recognised a part of me that had been hidden since then. As a thank you to my vulgar self three years ago, I'll let you guys read that poem now. Enjoy!

I Was A Mountain

I was a rock. I was a strong mountain holding up the world. I was immense, and strong willed and powerful. But the rain. The rain came and whittled me down to nothing but fine dust, finer than the softest touch. Then I became the breeze. I was the breeze blowing from North to East to South to West. I was strong, I was forceful, and my fury was like a thousand thousand hurricanes beating a drum. But the gale would eventually settle, and i became the sand. I would soak up the sun as the tide washed up against me, polishing me and making me smooth. I was as clear as glass, but as coarse as a cat's tongue. I lay on the shore staring at the sun when the oceans rose and took me away to be with the fish and the terrors of the deep. And I almost became a pearl, but the oysters didn't know my story and didn't want to. The story of how I had come from a mountain. And I would swim, up and down the currents, moving with the midnight blue depths of the ocean threatening to hide me from the light forever. But the sun remembered me and took me up to be close to the bosom of it's warming rays. And I was the cloud. I floated for an eternity that seemed to short as I kissed each ray of the sun as it came down from its celestial perch. I would greet it's radiant warmth with the embrace of a long lost friend reunited. And then I was the raindrop. I was racing faster than I ever had. Down, down, ever downwards. The world flew by me, curving along it's spiny horizon as Ispun. I was falling. Falling from unknown heights and crashing. Falling apart. Wet. But breathing new life and new possibilities into the world. And I was happy, because I kissed a mountain and told it my story.

Gwanz

This week, and indeed the last month have been absolutely crazy. I thibk I lost my mind and found it again more times than I care to admit. I had a very intersting freak out session earlier, and I decided to confide in one of my friends. He decided to call in the cavalry and brough in one more friend. The combination of the two (which is quite a stunning  combination if I do say so myself) saved me from all kind of embarrassing nonsense that I was going to do or say. Quite frankly I was freaking out like a 13 year old who started growing hair out of their armpits and didn't know how to deal with it. Okay, maybe it wasn't quite at that level of freaking out, but I was quite on edge. But thanks to them, I'm back in business. You can thank them both for what I'm about to give you. I showed this to them and they thanked me. I was confused becausd they realky did most of the work. See, for me, finding the inspiration is the hard part. The writing will come naturally given the right spark. Thank you for finding and giving me back the spark guys. I don't know where I'd be without my friends.