Friday, November 28, 2014

.Hurricane.


What's the use in wanting? I talk too much, feel too much, am too much.

And no one stays longer than a season for when my weather turns cold and ugly they depart for sunnier places where flowers always bloom, forgetting that the cold won't last forever.

Forgetting or not caring, but I can blind you with the shining of my soul if you just wait for the spark; as fast as the storm in me rolls in, the clouds part.

Make the best of my rainy days, for nothing grows without rain. Dance in my puddles, let me sing you to sleep.

Every paradise sees a hurricane.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

.Muses.

You can't be afraid if you're going to be a writer. You can't have shame, you can't have doubts. There's no caution in art...only passion. You write what you know; you write what you want to know. You make the adventures, and make them grand. You make people fall in love and you make them fall apart.

That's life, too; all those moments when you have to make the choice between listening to the voices that say you shouldn't and the electricity that starts your heart back up when you've lost the inspiration to really live.  

What do you want to write? What do you want to live for?