I hate that pain is a source of material.
I hate that pain is a source of material.
I hate it. I really (x2) do.
But whenever something awful happens, I secretly relish too.
“This is good! (very) Good writing material,” I say.
(maybe someday it'll help me make a buck or two)
And I mean it. I really (x2) do.
I mean what I say.
And sometimes I say what I mean.
And I always try to be honest;
(keeping in mind that you will
someday get tired of me.)
I hate that pain is a source of material.
I hate it. I really (x2) do.
But whenever something awful happens, I secretly relish too.
“This'll be good for the blog, I say.
(or for a short story or two...)
And I mean it. I really (x2) do.
I mean what I say.
And sometimes I say what I mean.
And I always try to be honest;
(knowing full well you'll
get tired of me, too)
Isn't it ironic,
that I am at my “writing best”
when I feel at my mental worst?
Life is funny that way.