I Write This
// July 15th, 2009 // The Arts
I write this Dirty
I write this with distraction, at a loss for complete attention or clarity.
I write this with the knowledge of receiving eyes, ears, without the time or awareness to resist. My captive audience.
In this state, I write. Not in wait for a quiet park, sunny courtyard or lonely evening; but in revelation of little time, with no true purpouse or emotion. Are these moments worthy of written thought?
I write this as one, influenced by none, though fully aware that no truth goes untold, no story unwritten, and cetainly no rhyme repeated in it’s artificial compensation, without additional sketches, or floral inflections.
With this knowledge in mind and at heart, I write. Doubtful of sincere praise, without expectation of polite observation- none which will go unnoticed as the true favours which they are, that is.
This is nothing.