t-day type #10

I should text you.

No I should CALL you

Just to ask,

“How are you doing?”

No end goal in mind.

Cause I had a dream last night

That you asked that question to me;

And I woke before

I could answer.

And that made me sad.

I don’t believe in them;

But that felt like a sign

To me.

We all get so busy

With our so called lives

We all got so accustomed

To having a reason

To see each other

But those reasons are gone

And we just don’t

Not anymore

When we do see each other

It’s awkward and weird.

Silences and staring at our phones;

Until we rehash the traumas

Of our past.

Make it seem like

We were more troubled than we really were

I guess that’s the thing nowadays

Everyone is mentally ill

No one is held accountable

No one tries to get stronger

No one tries to get better

Just wallow in your disease

Let the wound fester

Pick at it until all you feel is pain

Bond with hate

Don’t connect out of love

And wonder why everyone seems so hateful

So spiteful

Like a child who feels slighted

Or number 45 himself.

All I can do is put my money

Where my mouth is.

Try to connect with people,

Based on love,

Sharing passions,

And things that we enjoy.

No more room in my mouth,

In my soul for hate,

For the things that don't

Spark some joy into my heart.

The thing I love is Music

Another is movies.

I cannot make movies,

But I sure can try.

I know I can make music,

(The quality may be up for debate)

And I have been doing just that.

Notebooks filled to the brim with

Blue ink, scratched out lyrics

And me.

There is a lot of me in those pages.

A friend of mine said once that

Writing is my strength.

That might be true,

But I don't write

Because I want to;

I write

Because I have to.

It's as simple as that.

I wrote some songs,

I recorded them too.

I think they are pretty okay

I hope someone out there

Thinks so too.

Regardless; they are coming out.

Cause life is too short

Too not share your passions.