The call to arms was never true
I’m medicated, how are you?
Let’s take a dive, swim right through
Sophisticated points of view
Why is it I can only write thoughts lately. I’ll have an idea for a story, the opening line of a poem, or these rants and bitchings about my mediocre life hoping for a shred of acknowledgement. I can’t write. I’m suppose to “audition” for a holiday and I can’t fucking write the fucking piece. I’m throwing myself around, racking my brain trying to figure out what to do. Oh, I can bitch about little kids calling themselves bisexual because androgyny is all the rave, but a simple piece about my childhood costume can’t even spawn more than the first sentence: “I learned shame at a young age.”
The piece is a bittersweet piece about my wanting a Halloween costume that my mother couldn’t afford to get me because we were barely making it by. Yes, I was a brat and those who are most unfortunate enough to actually love me know I’m still very much a brat. But the story gets better, but I won’t write too much hear due to publishing reasons and blah blah blah. Of course, if they don’t buy it, then it’s all fair game.
I need cheerleaders. Where are my cheerleaders?
[Edit:] I would really like to change my layout, but the ones WordPress has at the moment suck major balls. I can always go with the layout of my original blog, but that will bring back a lot of sad, sad memories. Any suggestions?