Deep Thoughts for the Day: Pen and Paper

no time left to ponder. to ready my head. it is now. or else it is truly never. no lines to balance my words. no keyboard on which to rest my arms. song is the only constant. song and bloated self-critiquing. heart masturbating to the memories. chafing itself raw. now without the easy lubrication of thought kneading inebriants.

hand written letters to the self. in type tinier than on the computer. will i be able to read any of this later. when i need it again. when another friend has been expelled from my life.

they say you can't buy love. but they fail to mention that you can easily purchase the means to cope with the lack thereof. or that the payment for doesn't end with the cash register transaction.

some people should never be allowed to purchase anything even remotely addictive. especially depressives. depressives with obsessive personalities. like me.

writing by hand is slow. causes my thoughts to slow down. if my thoughts are a racecar. my pen is a semi-truck they're stuck behind on what otherwise could be the perfect highway for opening up the engine wide.

that must be why they call it gasoline.

originally written by hand on 6-18-05 saturday 1:35pm. so i can still write with pen and paper afterall, but i'm given to complain about it while writing.


handwriting
click for fullsize


thought i'd add a touch of humanity to the otherwise sterile blog text. that's some scary handwriting i have there. there's nothing scarier than humanity.

Comments

  1. Sometimes the words come so fast and so persistent, the only thing you can do is scribble what you think might be important later in some scrawling, painful script. And when you can't read it later, you curse the fact that you've become so dependant on a machine to make it easier to expell the thoughts from your brain.

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