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my god these dni posts are fucking crazy these days

I write because of boredom

and to relieve tension in my shoulders

I wonder why

more often than I should

for my own good

I write because on the surface

I am collected it seems

all while a storm brews

like coffee

a chaos underneath

I write because along comes the creme

the perfect touch

like fish in a stream

and I begin to feel

the endorphins release

I write because in this moment

I cease fear of judgment

and cast whatever

falls to the page

without any shame

I write because I don’t have to behave

this is me

the purest me I’d say

and in such a disastrous world

I write because this is my name

I write to live

now

then

tomorrow

I write in attempt to make the world less hollow

I write because I am a writer

to contain me in a word

I have a mind that most consider absurd

I write because apparently I like rhyming

perhaps it is soothing

perhaps it’s just natural

I write because those who know me

deserve to see

exactly

what I strive to be

I write because I desire to inspire

above all else

this is true

I write because I write

that’s just what I do

#poetry #writing #words #poets on tumblr #spilled poetry #spilled words #spilled ink #writer #creative writing #write to write

Tagebucheintrag

Wieso schreiben wir keine Briefe mehr?Wieso hören wir keine Platten mehr?Wieso gehen wir nicht mehr ins Theater?Wieso reden wir nicht mehr miteinander?Die einen sagen "Früher war alles besser", die anderen sagen "Das sei bullshit".Vielleicht war früher nicht alles besser. Vielleicht hat man damals einfach alles mehr geschätzt.Es ist traurig, dass wir alles für selbstverständlich nehmen. Wäre es nicht gut, wenn wir wieder die Dinge, die wir tun mehr genießen würden ? Wenn wir anfangen würden das Leben zu genießen ?Natürlich hatte man damals keine Wahl. Aber ein Brief signalisiert weit aus mehr als eine SMS. Eine Platte zu hören hat mehr Wert als irgendeine x-beliebige Musikplattform. Und eine echte Konversation zwischen zwei Menschen ist weit aus ehrlicher, tiefgründiger und bedeutender als sich stundenlang zuzutexten.Ich will das Leben so genießen können, dass es sich nach etwas besonderen anfühlt.Doch kann ich das vor meinen Bildschirmen? Ist das überhaupt möglich ?Ich will Tinte auf Papier.Ich will kratzendes Vinyl. Ich will Shakespeare auf der Bühne.Ich will dich sehen, mit dir reden, mit dir lachen, dich verstehen.

- 11.06.2018

Freaking Moments Despair Celebration!

What, what, WTF?

This week has been a freaking roller coaster ride! Smashed my phone in the weight machine at the gym, new phone set up can be more difficult than buying a new care, and with all that I HAVE WORKED OUT SO GOOD AND I RAN! Oh and the intermittent fasting has gone really well too :) where’s the freaking food?????

Today I really wanted to develop some thoughts around my fitness and eating plan. But now I sit here in this diner and my brian is slow and sleepy, that’s what happens sometimes at 0500 hours! Or maybe its the fasting state of my brain, I might be shutting down, malnourishment setting in and my muscles are wasting away to my fat eating monster cells. HA…really I think it was the amazing bubble bath this morning after a week of ice cold showers post workout.

Why ice cold showers, you ask? Rev’s up the metabolism and stimulates weight loss.

So I posted this to draft only on Friday, but today I am just going to publish and start over. I am not even sure why I decided to write on a boring topic...and besides this is Friday Friends....no Whit on Fitness ;) I can write on any topic I damn well feel like writing about, so that will be what I do. If its fitness, so be it, if it's something totally off base, YAY!

#shitpost #fitness #write to write #oh well

Sometimes, you need your pencils to inspire you

#free write #write to write #writers life #booklr #pencils #inspiration #the pen is mightier than the sword

Mum used to have a glass of red wine every night at dinner. Dad used to come home every Friday night with flowers. Slowly, more wine was being drunk and less flowers were being bought. Mum would tremble and stain her clothes a deep red. Dad would let others stain his collars the same shade. Slowly, all the wine was being drunk and no flowers were being bought. Mum decided not to drink one of the bottles and instead threw it at dad. Dad just stood there tired of the wine and the flowerless vases. Slowly, he packed his things. Mum got into the car and drove off yelling if anyone was leaving, it was going to be her. Dad heard a loud crash and went running out. Slowly, he found mum, held her and their clothes turned a horrible red together. Mum stopped breathing. Dad still hasn't stopped crying. Quickly, I threw out everything red I could find.

Somebody, somewhere

#i dont know #write to write #somebody #somewhere