The Poet, The Freak and The Idiot
According to the book I just read, a writer don’t really need an inspiration to compose. I exclaimed, “Ha! That’s so not me!” I’m a writer (I think) and behind every piece that I write lies an inspiration.
I love writing, especially poetry. Though I’m not really that good, I still love that hobby and yes, I’m just a hobbyist not a pro. There’s just something about poetry writing that makes me feel complete. At first it was just an outlet but after documenting 500+ poems, I won’t mind saying that poetry writing has been a passion for me but of course, an inspiration is a must-have.
Well, that lead me to this story:
Lately, that passion I gabbed about faded. I don’t know, maybe because of this bitterness I had for this girl who has been (and still) special but eventually a possible happy ending slipped away. To make it simple, the freak fell in love and got hurt (again).
I stared away from my stationeries the same manner I looked away from, ehem, love. I’ve been a bum as far as poetry writing is concerned but then I told myself, only an idiot will turn his back (at will) on something he actually love doing. With that realization, I wrote new poems for her and I made sure that those aren’t about heartaches. I wanted my compositions to spread happiness, no sorrow. My writing went on again for quite a while but not ill last 27th of April. I viewed her profile and saw a picture of her…with a real guy. It made me so jealous that it actually hurts. I’m bitter once more. I hate writing sad poems but what can I do if that’s how I feel? I’m so sad. I can actually thank God for this little poetry writing talent He gave me but this I asked myself: Will I be more grateful if an adamant heart is given to me? If so, I wouldn’t be hurt, write…and love in the first place.
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