first draft

nhi

 

today i have heavy boots like Oskar Schell and carry all the loneliness in the world like Leo Gursky. i would like to talk about myself very much but i think i am slowly losing the ability to talk, like that man who carries around a notebook to write down the short phrases that still stay with him. i miss literature. i miss art. i miss singing. i miss telling people that i love them very much.

i also miss my memories. memories don’t stay. they escape.  they die. they force people to let them go because accepting that you are living in the past is painful.

i don’t know what i am writing about. it is weird because if i stop to think about what i am writing, i won’t be able to write and that upsets me so i keep writing. that makes me start to wonder: what if the first draft is always the best draft?

tonight i am in desperate need of beautiful writing and raw emotions. i want something tender, sweet, unpretentious and humane. i want a writer to tell me what means to be a human and how to live because living, how do you do that? it is so difficult to live well that people don’t live anymore. and that upsets me.

someone wrote about stars in the sky this time last year and i want to read that piece again. it is beautiful and makes me dream and wonder. it makes me want to live.

artists, where are you? i need you tonight.

18339917105_77c5c4f3c2_z

Advertisements

Let us know what you think!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s