Heart Beats

Sometimes I wonder if the turmoil is worth it. Worth what? --Myself, the vague oasis in a desert of mirages. I wonder if it's worth it, being right, and never tripping. I wonder if almost dying, almost crying, is worth whatever ideal self I still haven't realized I want.

I feel original though. Carving a path even though every action and emotion I emit is nothing more than a mimicked gesture. If I die tomorrow, at least I'll know I was great.

-Dann

Smoke Rings

I never saw the merit in cigarettes until tonight.

I bought a pack for writing term papers. They helped me earlier this year in February, but not like this. This content feeling, I'm riding through conflicted feelings and general angst like a cowboy narrator.

And, I promise I won't get addicted.

-Dann

Moving Forward

I'm trying to figure out how I've changed. I'm reading over old blog entries, hoping hindsight is indeed 20/20, but perhaps I'm not quite there yet. Despite poor vocabulary and the awkwardness that is adolescence, the issues I articulate persist.

I need some conviction, I need some action. Worst yet, I haven't had either of these in years.

This poetry assignment is turning me upside down. Trying to recall my childhood and put it to words. It's not that I have some terrible childhood I don't like to remember, it's that I honestly thought I had a pristine childhood I wanted to remember.

There is nothing I would like more than to have the posts from my old blog right now, the one from late middle school and early high school. Maybe that would prove I haven't been a awkward depressed existentialist for my entire life.

-Dann

Bong Rips

It's funny how quickly my convictions fade. Bong rips will do that to you though.

I'll be back.

-Dann