i can read thousands of words a day. millions of individual letters, put together to mean something. something quite beautiful.
but when it comes to putting my words to paper (or screen, as it were) i can't string two thoughts together. and, on the days i can, it doesn't come out as richly or as splendidly as the concepts look in my mind.
but i need to get it out. somehow.
a story? tried that. it was a quick fix. but beginner's luck had me wrapped in it's coils.
a painting? who has the time? i will never live up to my high school work.
a song? am i really to believe that anyone wants to hear the saxophone's hum buzzing about his or her eardrums? least of all me?
so i give up. but if i someone doesn't understand me soon, i'm going to die. no, i won't keel over. i won't stop breathing. but i die a little bit inside every time i'm misunderstood. every time someone says "oh, i totally had you pegged for a twilight fan." or "you're a business major, why do you spend your time reading unnecessary things like dostoyevsky?"
i need someone to get me. and soon. please.
4 comments:
I understand you.
and this is why i loooooove you!
what an interesting post. i kind of wish i felt this way about something. but, i don't really. what does that mean for me? also, side note: i would love to start painting again but i feel like would fail without the help of MISS SHERRY STRICKLAND of course.
chenn-it means you're far more emotionally stable than me. haha
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