To The Blue Sky. . .
3.03.2003
It's so hard to concentrate. Everyday it's the same green chalkboards, the same beige desks, same faces, same ordeal. That is my life. It's so hard to concentrate. I get nervous thinking about this.
Okay, so the purpose of this thing is for me to write. Not saying that I'm a writer or anything, it just feels good. I don't know anything about writing and I'm not claiming to have any talent, I just want to write down what I'm feeling. It makes things easier that way. You should really try it. Okay, so I've always written songs and poems and stuff, but that is getting really old with me. I'm sick of writing the same lame song about the same lame subject a million times. It's all so trite, bland, stale, unoriginal. It's not doing anything for me. I feel that it's time I started writing about stuff that I just can't put into song form. Frustration is a very tough thing to translate into a time signature. Fears are hard to express in 3 1/2 minute songs. If I knew how, then I would, but I just don't. Maybe it means I'm not as talented as people thought, but that doesn't matter. All that matters is that I'm going to do this. It might be embarrassing, it might be offensive, it might be stupid, it might end up being a lot of things. But I'm going to do this. I hope whoever reads this enjoys it.