Sometimes we feel like a baked potato;
Out for too long,
Overly or underly dressed,
Feeling like a hot mess.
Other days we’re the wrongfully-hyped and entirely-saturated lump of mash potatoes.
Smooth and creamy,
Maybe lacking in depth,
But good enough to call satisfying.
On our best days we’re those gold and crispy fries,
That others want by the handful.
Some may call us rather too salty,
Others may say that we’re too greasy.
But, all in all, we’ve reached the peak of the moutain;
The top of the ladder.
Yet, nothing could make me sadder.
Let me be a hot mess if I want to,
A bitter lump if need be,
But never cage me into one category,
And surely never the basis of one word.
I am from the earth,
And I am interchangeable.
This is why I am so relatable.
I called it quits with daily journals awhile back ago. But my friend Ruben reminded me how important such journals are. I knew that people read them, but I didn’t think anyone was truly inspired by them. It’s not that I believed my writing was horrid or anything. I just didn’t think they carried much significance past my own little realm. So, with much thought, I figured I’d start writing journals again. I won’t number them because there might be days where I don’t write any. I hope to gain something that I had lost somewhere along the way. But in the mean time, I hope I inspire some of you.
Topic: Why do you write?
I write because it makes me happy; it brings me clarity. There is a peace of mind that comes from writing as well. I can write and essay and feel as though my thoughts are focused. I can scribble a poem and feel as though my mind has met something entirely abstract but nonetheless exciting. Writing is a way of being for me. To write is to breathe, and to breathe is to be able to write. I love to write screenplays if an idea comes to mind, and I like to write poems whenever inspiration strikes. Sometimes I have to force myself to wrire, but sometimes I have to force myself to stop. Today is one of those days.