So, I have gotten back into writing after a very long time of not writing at all. I don't know what caused me to stop, it just sort of happened, but now that I've focused on really trying (and have managed to write at least a little bit every day) it's become more easy to get back into it and that makes me happy.
A long time ago I used to religiously attend open mic nights at various cafes and such and was involved to a certain extent with the local poetry scene, but I got sort of disillusioned with it as I saw more and more people who wrote honest, good, poetry and spoken word getting marginalized in favor of the aggressive competition between writers and who could behave more crazy on stage and all that kind of thing. I'm not really into that sort of thing and I guess it turned me off of it for awhile. That scene really doesn't interest me anymore. It seems less about the content of the words now and more about the cult of personality built up around the artists and their "persona." Maybe that's how it's supposed to be, but I don't like it much.
I just got back from doing some writing at a coffee shop not far from where I live and I'm glad that I'm making progress and no longer suffering from block. I have found my groove I think. The funny thing is it seems every time I go out to write, I get interrupted by the same person calling my cell phone who has the wrong number and can't take a hint that I am not who they think I am. They think I'm joking around, but in all honesty I'm not. This person keeps calling and doesn't believe it's the wrong person.
Needless to say, I am shutting my phone off while I write from now on, which probably would have been the logical thing to do in the first place.
Anyway...a couple very short, silly pieces I scribbled on a piece of paper at work the other day:
walk over to them
make them notice you
then ignore them for the rest of your life.
if they keep coming back to you it means they want something you probably can't deliver.
but leave them hanging anyway.
leave them expectant and unfulfilled.
it's a much healthier relationship that way.
when the time comes where will be plenty of people waiting for you to give them something.
whether it's a ride home or a plate of free food at your funeral.
when that happens the people are yours.
a captive audience who can't help themselves.
they belong to you for that moment.
in that sense, slavery is still very much alive.
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