It's like turning a light bulb hovering slightly atop your cranium, like a rusted gear filled with small rocks and dry dusty air, creativity is the spark that's always in sight but always ahead, out of one's reach.
Like squeezing water out of a rock, I once said, but apparently I've grown too emotional and I need an outlet of sorts. I need to learn how to speak again. How to properly articulate my rage. Using as much eloquence as I possibly can to maintain charisma. Boo. Hoo. I don't feel like I could blog like the 16 years old I once was.
Or the angst-ridden 13 years old I once was.
Like squeezing water out of a rock, I once said, but apparently I've grown too emotional and I need an outlet of sorts. I need to learn how to speak again. How to properly articulate my rage. Using as much eloquence as I possibly can to maintain charisma. Boo. Hoo. I don't feel like I could blog like the 16 years old I once was.
Or the angst-ridden 13 years old I once was.
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