We all would like a response. I’ve noticed things as I have departed from social media again. It isn’t just on the social networks but also in life, we want a response, reaction, some comment or critique. We have people changing their hair, the way they act, people they associate with, just to get a
Everyone wants to be “okay”. What does that even mean? People come up to you saying that everything will be. When things don’t go your way or continue spiraling down, all you hear is people saying, “I’ll be there for you” or “I’ll say a prayer for you”. Well, everything may not be okay and
Your biggest audience is yourself. Before anyone starts saying or thinking, what will Gee_ology rant about now, let’s clear the air. I’ve learned a key thing as a writer which is what I wrote as my first sentence. We get so caught up in likes, reblogs, and etc that we forgot why we write. Now,
That’s it, I can’t take it anymore. I have thrown in the towel of my ability to act like I just don’t care. What am I talking about you might ask, simple, people don’t know how to drive. Let’s just state for the record that I am not the best driver nor do I consider
Cover me in swirls of light or darkness. Bury me in the mystery of possibilities. Faces emerge and breeds a new future of uncertainty. Shaped emotions and thoughts illustrating new reason. The present swirls.
What does it mean to write? Laying down on my bed contemplating what my next words will be? What would entice a reader to stick through these simple words that would impact them? How would I draw an audience to my work? The questions that plague a writer. I find myself attempting to find proper
Search within the mystery. Bursting colors illuminated by darkness. Flickers of rays met with caverns of emotions. Into the deep.
Speak to me of days gone and I shall incite memories of yesterday to flourish once more. Speaking measures are taken to reignite thoughts and emotions drawn from distances once forgotten. Lest weary thoughts be a prison. Centuries drawn by passing. The past breeds change of the present.
Echoing thoughts raging from whispering silence swelling within. Nights of darkness met by flickering light. Vision disrupt by blurry noises. The paradox of the senses mixed as life finds meaning touched by empty spirits. Vibrating emotions catching the scent of the agent of nothingness. Tales carry home the tolls of finding life in an empty
What moves people? I’ve been asking myself the question that seems to spark interest in many people. I’ve been thinking about my work as an artist, a writer, to better help reach an audience. You could say I have those people who may indeed have been following me since the beginning and the real question