Define yourself…

Don’t tell me where you came from… Tell me where you’re going… I lose my sense of direction frequently. I live viscerally; finding my life in between crags of compositions and existing amidst high notes… I live between the lines of Ferlenghetti and I live in the eyes of everybody else… But not in my own. I live in the taste of Werthers Originals and Black Licorice candies. I live in the photos, the note cards that are pinned to my wall… A constant nagging on the moments worth framing… A focal point to savor. I swallow pills and force myself to open… I look at things bigger than me, work for things bigger than me… You’d think it makes me feel small… It doesn’t. I live with abandon. I live with intention. I live with conviction. I don’t work as hard as I should on the things I should be working on. Instead I find pleasure in doing the unassigned, the unrequited… I either move too slowly or too fast… I see beauty in dragonflies… The “metamorphoses” of them, as a good friend likes to say… I exist in simple clichés but nowhere in the dictionary… I try to be undefined… I do it purposely. And then I put on make-up… Not to prove to the world that I’m beautiful, but to prove it to myself. I get lost in the lines of sketches, only read to inspire my own writing… But this is off the subject… I distract myself from the topic. I’ll say it simply:

~ by carik on March 6, 2008.