OH MY GOSH... This is FREAKY. Ok, i was going to write a new post today about how i feel that my writing style in my posts are beyond poetic (erm, "beyond" meaning on the other polar end of the spectrum). My posts sound exactly the way it would if i were talking to you face to face. Nothing flowery, nothing poignant. Just pure straight talk from a straight up honest girl.
Then i remembered that i wrote this "poem" some time ago... And the topic was also about "the way i write".
And GUESS WHAT. I found the post and "poem" and ......................... discovered that it was also written on the 7th of Feb, 2006. EXACTLY ONE YEAR FROM TODAY.
Do my thoughts and emotions occur in a cyclical pattern or WHAT?! I'm doomed to be a boring person!!!!! *screams and runs around in circles*
Tuesday, February, 7th, 2006
Teehee, i'm no poet, but decided to try my hand at one. So here goes...:
To open thy heart before, 'tis a risk i did take,
But somewhere along the line, i realized i risked forsake.
But sometimes the urge becomes so strong,
So I simply just scribble some obscure song.
Such is the silliness of my public blog,
For one who fears getting severely mobbed.
Hence the things i type and publish,
Are mostly selfish, and some just rubbish.
It's for all to see, this online real estate,
But I know not who treads on this slate.
Nevertheless i thank the readers,
Who've often visited as this Vacuum's feeders.
Deep level discourse and embellished writings i have not,
Breathtaking photos, i also boast naught.
Witty lines and flowing expression,
Are more likely non existent than inner suppression.
Then again there was once a time,
When words arrived so clear and fine.
"Eloquent and articulate" were terms i favoured,
Thoughts borne of conceit and pride, they escalatored.
But then Life had a way to suck me out dry,
I open my mouth and nothing would fly.
When i once could slice a person in half,
Now, I'm as docile as a calf.
(ok, maybe not really. edited: but it rhymes. hahaha.)
I look back upon the days of yore,
When suaning people was never a chore.
Though i'm watered down some with more to learn,
A dagger sharp mind, i still do yearn.
Hence often times i feel the evil green,
Creeping and seeking to consume and preen.
But then i think: "I Am Me",
My value, my worth: In the God i can't see.
So i worry less though still plagued at times,
But i remind myself: Don't waste your time;
"I am who i'm meant to be
Says the God who crafts perfectly".
Some of the.. eh.. what do you call them? Stanzas? Some of them are a little obscure because i had to compress a long story into 4 short lines. So even i have to stop to recall what i had meant to say when i was fashioning the stanza.
Off to mug... And wonder about how my mind freaks me out sometimes. Ask Gem, he'll tell you about some of my psychic moments. Muah hahahaa.. Be afraid. Be very afraid.