They think I write because I'm feeling emotional.
Dear me.
I wish I was emotional.
But it's the opposite, really.
I write because I feel nothing.
And feeling nothing means feeling a dull thirst.
I thirst for productivity.
I thirst for activity.
I thirst for the passion long gone.
So I wring my hollow heart out
for any inspiration
and whatever drips from it
I maximize fully,
What little gasoline remains from it I use extensively.
I strike a match
and burn everything
as much as I can,
Because I know it's nonrenewable
And I have to hoard ideas from it while stocks last, use it until the embers burn out.
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 9:15 AM UTC
They think I write because I'm feeling emotional.
Dear me.
I wish I was emotional.
But it's the opposite, really.
I write because I feel nothing.
And feeling nothing means feeling a dull thirst.
I thirst for productivity.
I thirst for activity.
I thirst for the passion long gone.
So I wring my hollow heart out
for any inspiration
and whatever drips from it
I maximize fully,
What little gasoline remains from it I use extensively.
I strike a match
and burn everything
as much as I can,
Because I know it's nonrenewable
And I have to hoard ideas from it while stocks last, use it until the embers burn out.
