Slurring The Rhythms

Sometimes writing should just be dirty.

A lot of times I sit here and spew all this…crap.

Like:

The peacock sheds its feathers
in hopes of being free for spring

xD That doesn’t even mean anything.
When I’m actually writing, my stuff has meaning. Of course.
But sometimes I feel like I’m the only one following the story.
And it probably just seems like fluffy air.
Even if the words are negative.

I’ve got two distinct writing styles, I think.

There’s the one where I’m like: THE CLOCK TOLLS NOON ON THE CITY
AND I AM FORSAKEN.

And there’s the one where I’m like: THIS NEEDS TO HAPPEN. OTHERWISE SHIT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN.

Basically the same sentence. The second one just has less fog around it. xD;
I’m tired of being all ldkfghjkdfhg.
And hoping it makes sense to someone besides myself.

It’s about time to switch back over.
Methinks.
__________________________________________

WHY is there always such good music?
Like. Always.
I feel spoiled. Because I obviously listen to all the best music.
Obviously.

I wont even bother saying what I’m listening to today.
There’s just too much.