Sketching A (Me)mory

Pencils.Pens.Crayons.Paint.

I like pencils, They keep my hands busy

I flow through memories that I don’t remember thinking of

I retell untold stories with my pencil

Sometimes erasing my thoughts and recreating them better than they originally were

Pencils allow my thoughts to change and sculpt into subliminal secrets that only my pencil and I understand

But pencils aren’t my only vice, I’m also cool with my pen

Pens are more permanent, I express my history’s facts with my pen

I only copy what’s been created to be definite, because my pen only looks back to write forward

But I love the way my pen brings confidence to my historic memories, It’s sometimes contagious

I can write with a certain maturity I can’t get with my pencil

But my inner child doesn’t understand my pen, and that’s where my crayon comes in

Crayons help express the natural innocents of my inner child

My crayon thinks outside of the lines, and only focuses on the color blend of my organic ignorance that I was born with

The form undefinable visions that only make sense in the moment

My crayon keeps my youth alive

Without it I’d forget my past

I’ll always need my crayon it influences my other friends

Including my last one Paint.

Now paint gives me so much in so many ways

I can flow thoughts on paper

or fuse creations with concrete walls

Paint knows no boundaries

It connects with all my other friends

Because paint sees elements of itself in them

The Freedom.The Permanent.The Innocence

Paints also mischievous, It’s sometimes the bad conscience on my shoulder

But beauty comes out of the bad

I accomplish my public Elusiveness with the aids of my friends

Pencil.Pen.Crayon.Paint.

They make up my memories, and they keep my hands busy

(not) A Poem

These are words I typed for the sake of typing (enjoy)

“I’m not here to entertain you, my mirror gives me applause”

Stand. pose. applaud.

my mirror thinks I’m a star

my talent is at a level ten

I stand. pose. and start again

but those aren’t all the creative abilities I possess

I can dance, sing, and express myself to my mirror

I bring my mirror to tears and smiles all in one performance

my concerts, stunts, and depictions so detailed

echos of “encore” feed my ego, and I bow with gratitude

because my mirror understands where I’m coming from

I’m accepted by this one person crowd

and I feel as if I could reappear to this audience again, so I do

my mirror’s my emotional clutch, So I don’t need you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Intr(Y)o

~Disclaimer~
The way I figure it is this:
Their are plenty of blogs on here for noone to ever come across this one, But if you do happen to come across my whatever of a blog and find it interesting enough to waste atleast five minutes of your time on, then to you I say thank you. Enjoy what’s here Just join today (technically yesterday), but I plan to keep this up. It’s a personal goal to commit to this blog so even if it’s not a very popular one atleas I’ll be able to say I kept up with it (I never keep up with things like this).

Thing to (not) know:
I’m a female
I reside on the eastcoast of North America
Spend most of of my time in school (or doing nothing at all)
I’m only online late at night or early in the morning, it’s kinda my latenight drug Music is my sanity
Art is my medicine
Outside of E-world I’m too busy to keep up with people (I forget they exist sometimes), unless I’m close to you or see you all the time
I plan to (atleast) try to interact with other bloggers

If you haven’t already given up on this blog you should checkout the variety to the right (better known as the “Ristorante Mixtape“)
IT’S WHAT MY SOUL SOUNDS LIKE
PEACE*