What?
What?
What
What
What
What am I putting here?
Are we recording?
Is this thing on?
Are you on?
Are you on to me?
Can anyone see me?
Hello?
Hello?
Hello hello hello
Hey hey hey
What're we doing today?
What's on the menu this evening, sir?
Lust for life
Live to lust
Where did it go?
How old am I?
Do I really want to know?
Why did it happen?
And when did it stop?
Will I ever get it back?
Is it gone for good?
Is there anything left?
Scraps on the table
Crumbs on the floor
No one to play Lover now
The X marks the door
Leave! Leave, and never return!
But the path is blocked
with accidents
and forgiveness
and everything left unsaid
and we're trapped in here
in the fire
no way out
coughing up the smoke from our hearts as they burn
i'll die for you
i'll die with you
i am going to die with you
i always knew i would
somehow i always knew
and i did it anyways
and i did it again
and again
and i'll do it again
and again
i'll always die for you
i'll always die with you
i'll always be in you
somewhere i always knew
somewhere you never let me go
I will burn there
Forever
Ever After
Always
Sometimes I want to write something for some reason (creative desire, self-destructive pressure, guilt, etc.) but don't have anything in particular to say. On those occasions, what I'll often do, just to prime the pump or get the juices flowing or whatever other appropriate cliché you want to use, is just starting writing out whatever comes across my mind, stream-of-consciousness style. Sometimes what I end up producing is strikingly profound. Most of the times it's just nonsense. But, either way, it works. In the end, regardless of whether what I've produced turns out to be beautiful or ridiculous, I always have at least the germ of an idea to write about, and the will to do it; that sense of creative "flow" that is so essential.
The above is an example of one of these exercises in go-with-the-flow writing. I'll leave it to you to decide whether it is beautiful and profound, or ridiculous nonsense.