I have to write again? Already? It feels like it was just yester...ohh right. That was yesterday. I have to write everyday. For thirty days.
I thought I'd read a poem I wrote last night for inspiration, a lot of times I find my posts here to be almost like purports to my poems. Unfortunately, I can't find my iPod which I wrote it on. So now I'm stranded on a desert island with nothing but a few palm trees and coconuts in the sand to write about.
That metaphor brings back memories. Truth or dare? What/who would you have with you if you were to be stuck on a small isnland for the rest of your life?
Maybe your a musician. You want a piano and some paper on which to write your beautiful symphonies; though they'll be lost and you forgotten, until someone comes along and finds some sheet music and the skeleton of the next Mozart.
Maybe you'd want a skateboard and a half-pipe, to perfect tricks that will never make YouTube. Maybe a punching bag that you can use to relieve your frustration as well as perfect your boxing. A canvas and some paints? A journal and pen?
None of that sounds appealing, does it?
Who cares about getting famous after they're dead? Who cares about being Tony Hawk if you can't show it off? Who cares if your Muhammad Ali if you can never beat anybody up? If your Van Gough and...well that's enough in it's own, he was a pretty depressed guy. And was Anne Frank happy? She's one of the most famous journalists in history because she was killed in the Holocaust.
No, those aren't the answers you get when you ask that question.
People would rather have a person to talk to and nothing to show off in front of them than something amazing and no one to see. Everybody always chooses a person.
I once asked a friend if he'd rather lose both his legs and have the girl of his dreams or a fully functioning body but never find love.
He said he'd rather have no legs than no love. And I think the same goes for most of us.
Being stranded on a desert island hasn't been so bad for this post.
I thought I'd read a poem I wrote last night for inspiration, a lot of times I find my posts here to be almost like purports to my poems. Unfortunately, I can't find my iPod which I wrote it on. So now I'm stranded on a desert island with nothing but a few palm trees and coconuts in the sand to write about.
That metaphor brings back memories. Truth or dare? What/who would you have with you if you were to be stuck on a small isnland for the rest of your life?
Maybe your a musician. You want a piano and some paper on which to write your beautiful symphonies; though they'll be lost and you forgotten, until someone comes along and finds some sheet music and the skeleton of the next Mozart.
Maybe you'd want a skateboard and a half-pipe, to perfect tricks that will never make YouTube. Maybe a punching bag that you can use to relieve your frustration as well as perfect your boxing. A canvas and some paints? A journal and pen?
None of that sounds appealing, does it?
Who cares about getting famous after they're dead? Who cares about being Tony Hawk if you can't show it off? Who cares if your Muhammad Ali if you can never beat anybody up? If your Van Gough and...well that's enough in it's own, he was a pretty depressed guy. And was Anne Frank happy? She's one of the most famous journalists in history because she was killed in the Holocaust.
No, those aren't the answers you get when you ask that question.
People would rather have a person to talk to and nothing to show off in front of them than something amazing and no one to see. Everybody always chooses a person.
I once asked a friend if he'd rather lose both his legs and have the girl of his dreams or a fully functioning body but never find love.
He said he'd rather have no legs than no love. And I think the same goes for most of us.
Being stranded on a desert island hasn't been so bad for this post.
So true! Even Krishna, the Supreme Lord of all everythings, who has it all to the max, wants people to enjoy it all with!
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