what if i dont have the magic inside of me any more
what if everything before this was luck like they said
what if they were all being nice in the past and i have no talent
what if my isla vista sex drugs rock intro was really just a set up to a downward spiral into misery heartache poverty and tragedy
what if the caged bird doesnt actually sing for thee, but instead is tolling a bell yearning to be set free?
what if my buckets got a hole in it
these are the thoughts that go a mile a second into the head of a writer as he simply tries to do his work, and im sure it happens to musicians and artists and ballet dancers and tuba repairmen
but i heard the best thing the other day. who said it. who said it?
whoever it was said you can have these thoughts come to you, but you have to let them all slide through. don’t give them a home in your head.
dont let them live there rent-free. move them along, little doggies. move along.
have them, hear them, note what theyre saying,
but then bring out the broom and sweep them out, make room for the new thoughts, the weirder ones, the crazier ones
the thoughts that bring about peace and love, peace and love
oh yes, it was Ringo who said it!