You will be happy the minute you try. But you don't try.

I'm not writing what I'm supposed to.
Fuck that ten page piece of uninformed self indulgent bullshit.
Tonight while listening to my "old masters" i realized that the feelings they remind me of, the twinge i feel in my heart when i hear them shout those words and bang out those chords, it's not a longing for a place or time that's come and gone. I don't want to ever be back there again. What i feel, what my soul craves is that feeling i had called passion. I was overcome with passion and inspiration and the love and amazement that comes along with the newness of a situation or a place. I found inspiration in a town that i lived in for 18 years. I made better art then than i have made since. I've let my mind fall into the routine my body has fallen into and it's killing it. I've forgotten what it's like to wonder and then experiment. Why don't i carry that machine around my shoulder any more? How can i call myself something that i don't even enjoy doing. Everything becomes a chore when nothing is a choice. And that's how i feel right now. I'm tired of running around. I'm tired of being so fucking tired. You speak these words of spirit and anarchy to me but when will we carry them out? Between work and sleep and school and driving. Fuck that shit! I'm sick of having to make time to live my life. Let's just fucking do it. Show me who you used to be and i'll do the same. Teach me, take me somewhere i see every day and show it to me in a way that i've never seen before. I know you can do it. Just be yourself. Let's burn this fucking city too the ground baby. Lets suck the life right out of it. And we'll leave it for dead and let the wind blow us on westward where new life has already begun without us. This place is old, but has no history. I'm getting older than i realize. I didn't even notice. I still feel like I'm going to do all those things i want to when i grow up. Well, i'm fucking grown. I want to live again. I want to be carried by music and words and inspired and write my own words. I want to speak from my own fucking mouth and see with my camera lens.
Let's scream. Lets fight and kick and take it all down.
I haven't got the guts.