as if their words dont matter. as if we have forever on this toilet earth. as if we’ll get around to our brilliant thoughts tomorrow. as if tomorrow we’re not gonna have different stories to tell or new reasons not to write.
as if a demon doesnt get his wings every time you dont post.
your blog is there for you to tell us everything. you have nothing to lose. we have everything to learn from you. so why dontcha.
think about the tv yr watching or blogs yr reading or books you just put down or movies you just saw, and liked. what if that person listened to the devil in their head that day and bought into the bullshit that it doesnt matter? what if bukowski said f it im old im fugly im fat, what on earth do i have to share with the world? i aint twain. i aint hem. i aint shakespeare.
al gore invented this thing for us to rock. every day. not just once in a blue moon. not just when everythings perfect. but in thick n thin. when yr tired and when youre strong, when yr sad and when yr thrilled. the universe deserves every color in the crayola box, so bust.
you know who writes when you dont? all the people you hate.
its because the foolish and evil and f’ed up and wicked dont have the devil telling them a million reasons why they should take a nap instead. because the devil wants them to write. and get on the radio. and infest comments. and whisper in your dreams.
write for the angels. tell’em what theyre missing. explain why harps and clouds and hymns and flying around is for the birds, and how summer is here and the beer tastes better.
tell em how your heart is broken. tell em that yr dreams are blossoming.
tell em everything and then more and then more and
then watch what you learn
because noone can read what you havent typed up.
not even u