Wednesday, April 13, 2005

my head is full of poo butter.

little things set me off. irrational stupid pointless little things. in the last few days little things, like people pointing out my spelling errors or telling me i don't know the meaning of a word, make me feel like my insides are being cooked in vomit.

so few things bring me any kind of satisfaction, and when i pour a lot of my blood into something and someone blows irrelevant negatives out of proportion, focusing in on them as if to discredit my work in it's entirety, it pisses me off.

it shouldn't.

i know to these people it's just off hand comments, and i know something about those. i don't want any special treatment, i don't want to be coddled. but i also don't want to be ridiculed, especially when these people haven't ever put a fraction of themselves into anything they've ever done. especially since most of these people don't know jack-shit about creating something; ingesting their work and letting their work injest them. they only know how to critique, how to attack the weak points of others while contibuting no useful analysis of what they are looking at.

...i've been writing a lot of these lately. pointless tirades that go nowhere. i've had a pretty bad creative block these last few weeks. a few bursts here and there, but mostly just nothing. a pale grey atmosphere underscored by mild waves.

things are making less and less sense. i get words mixed up. i get wrapped up in the image and the emotion to the point of being unable to articulate it, to make any kind of sense out of it. to make any kind of art out of it.

maybe i've got too much stuff bottled up. all of the bad stuff is try to get out at once, getting stuck in the door, getting angrier, scarier, sadder, more distressed, more frustrated. guess i just have to push them back and let them out one at a time. examine the girl problems first, then the school shit, than the family nonsense, then the peer nonsense, then wait for the innevitable cluster fuck of insecurties, rage, and disapointment, then repeating everything.

i guess this was my bi-monthly emotional breakdown...this time in verse.

NP:Meat Puppets-Oh Me.


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