Monday, May 17, 2010//12:41 AM

The Bouquet of Clumsy Words

And once again I find myself running back to blog, even though the joys of Twitter have rendered me unable to string some words nicely together to form a decent sentence. I'm not even sure that last sentence made sence. I mean, sense.

Every once in awhile I catch myself fighting this weird urge to write, even though I have nothing intelligent, funny or soul stirring to write about. And once I bang out some alphabets on my laptop this crazy feeling simply fades away, only to recur a few weeks later. I won't say that this release of emotion equates to an orgasm, but this has got me wondering whether writers do get it on. Or should I say, dipped their pens in the old inkwell. That was real classy, Naomi Clark.

"Sometimes I wonder if the past 3 years will have any kind of impact in my life, or will they just be one of those filler years where the only reason why they were present was because reality simply does not allow a person to skip 3 whole years of her life. I won't say I'd be disappointed if they turn out to be filler years, because I don't even know what I want to expect in the future. The only thing I am certain of is that where I am now was a consequence of several whimsical conscious and sub-conscious decisions and situations. A part of me regrets my current position only because of the things that could have been. Which, if you think about it, kinda sucks because...well you know. And this passage isn't even coherent. Which is perfect. Sorta." - And there you go. The bouquet of clumsy, clunKy words.




I will gladly take bass lessons from Mark Hoppus. For free.