I've decided that today is Open Mic――er, Keyboard――Night. SO I've written something, and here it is. Feel free to post your own. Please note I am absolutely the furthest thing from a poet. :)
All around me are contradictions. People are contradictions, textbooks and social rules are contradictions. I am a contradiction too, but mostly I don't mind. If you think about it, nothing makes sense. My problem is that, thinking. Some people go through life without thinking at all, and yet I think and overthink. What is it that makes us think or not? Why do irrational things make sense, while the things that come easily to the rest of the world seem a senseless dream, just out of my reach? Somedays I feel more connected than others, and some I feel so different from everyone else I might implode. Some days I wish I could just float away, and live with the birds and clouds and uncomplicated things. Or land somewhere far away, where things make sense and nothing is ever out of reach. Some days music is my only sanctuary...all kinds, happy and sad and loud and soft and fast and slow. The world falls away and all that's left is me and the words and the music. Words are a comfort as well. Times like now, when I don't have access to music or quiet space, I write. I write about anything, everything; fill pages and pages that were once blank, empty. And when I finish I feel like I could burst, or happily sleep forever. I feel content. If I could only live in this notebook, with my words and music forever. I'd be happy forever.
*snaps*
Go forth and dance with the world.
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