My expression don't flow as they once did.
My pen doesn't mark my history. It doesn't write my biography.
It doesn't tell my story on paper as our Leaders or my Pastor,
even Self Proclaimed Rappers -
and those people who have influenced me once did.
You see, I've often said that I need a muse to infuse me.
Someone to allow me to express MY views or my perception on how I see things. Someone willin to LISTEN rather than DISHIN'
the Dirt & the Drama.
No, these days life has been bland; Rather boring and its accuring to me more and more that Writing has become my last priority instead of second nature.
And I wish with all my heart I cud savor the elementary days when I cud write without a muse. But these days I'm less enthused ..and well, without a person or thing or reason to be inspired, its impossible for my heart to sing.
my mind to imagine , my thoughts to become writings...........
However clearing some much needed dead weight opened up and allowed space for this artist to fill my gaps.
Best described: Mentally Orgasmic. Her words in the most simplistic of terms struck thru me like lightening in a terrible storm. Her words were strong. They were soft but powerful,
she declared what was destined.
Positive yet memorizing. She was the inspiration that for years i searched for, my soul yearned for. The change that could only better, and the positive reinforcement I so desperately needed.
So in the months I have neglected my writings and felt
no need to share, I've found it was simply because who I had around me didnt much care to hear. They Seeminglessly heard and answered the voice on the outside.
She, this artist,
my muse,
hears the music my soul sung inside...
7.29.10
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