So I don't remember when exactly did my writing shift from rhythmic poetry to spoken word to narrations in prose; it's kinda interesting to observe the gradual lift in my style. I've been updating this blog for 3 years now, and i've been growing as a person ;body and personality, interacting with different folks, and foreign interference it was inevitable that I changed the way i portray myself and my mind.
Recently I realized that regardless of the style, I don't really feel the need to write anymore. That is, I don't know what to write about (lol). That is, without losing my integrity. And I'm certainly not the type that sits down and decides to write about a random concept just to gratify a craving. That craving is fading away anyhow, and I'm only left with a pulsing seed of fear buried in the depths of my heart foreboding the desertion of this cyber lodging i created for myself..
In a month or two; in a year; I might forget how to write.
I might very well forget that I used to write.
And it scares me. That's why I don't want to stop. But my pride is poking my side with a thorn dipped in revulsion.
I don't understand people that write about imaginary scenarios, feels, lovers, memories, just for the sake of making an appearance at a spoken word event.
This is not competitive; this is a private business, your gathering the guts to vent your inner frets and fears with such honest tears
And i find it extremely exhibitionist (and intrusive of beholders) to recite your heart before a crowd of strangers that busy themselves recording snaps while they snap their fingers in proportion with your use of advanced vocabulary. I can't fake it fam. Not my style. When I'm feeling it alright, my words will flow like the great Nile.
Meanwhile, i think i'm taking a break from this until
I get the feels again.
Because if i die tonight I don't want the last bits of me to be dead as well.

PS: I hope it rains. My brain unfreezes a bit when it does.