Have you ever seen a picture of the wilderness? Maybe a picture of mountains, trees, and streams? Can't you just picture yourself there?
For example, take a Bob Ross painting. They are so alive until you can add auditory senses to it. The crisp and clear sound of the river running, the sound of the birds chirping, the wind rustling through the trees, and the way the mountains are majestically in the background. These are places where a person can go to rest and relax; a santuary or a refuge from the urban , noise-polluted world.
I am trying to get to a 24 inch waist, which is three inches less than i am now. I plan to achieve them by exercising and cutting out soda of my diet. I am currently unsuccessful, since soda drinking to me is something of an addiction. I hope to be like Halle Berry's waist.
Why is it so hard to write something
When you feel just about everything?
The depths of sorrow,
The peaks of happiness,
The flares of anger,
The chill of fear.....
Why is it so hard to write anything?
Tears fill the eyes of the blank writer
He or she wonders if his or her gift is gone
The writer ponders if whether or not he or she deserved this wretched curse
He or she wonders what he or she hasdone
Contemplating the punishment the creator has given the writer.
Anger then enrages his or her mind
The writer the wants to curse the reason or reasons for this atrocity
But there is not enough forethough for this creative genius
Scientists use reason and knowledge to calculate what to do
But the writer does not have the luxury of planning
He or she has the luxury of expressing his or her emotions
The writer may pound a desk a few things from time to time
But, that's all he has
And his mind goes blank
And once again,
He does the same thing as what's on his paper: nothing.
Then the writer reasons with him or herself
To simply stop writing and go on an adventure to rediscover the lost gift
Quite a joy it is,
Traveling from a single step to the othr end of the world
But, surprisingly, when he is done traveling and site seeing
He still has an empty book.
The writer then reaches a stage of anxiety
Feeling that perhaps his time for writing is over
That it is probably beneficial if he goes into another career
He or she then looks at the empty book
Fearing if this is the and
The writer then gasps,
Realizing he or she just had an idea.
The writer then writes pieces of him or herself down
Anything and everything from trifling and whimsical,
To important things that really matter within the writer's inner being
A soldier uses a gun
A butcher uses a knife
But a writer, yes, a writer
His or her weapon is a pen
And before he or she knows it
The empty book that was impossible to finish
is now finished and full.
- Current Mood: blank
- Current Music:Nirvana - Lithium