#nottalented

Day V - Communication

Sonic wants to interact will all of you through https://twitter.com/ (and have a "great" time, I am sure) as this 95% traced art shows.

She looks like dawn with her elvish silver hair I look like sunset for all that I care And her heavenly features are printed out there

She does nothing but survive and care I’m breaking down, I’m teared But I get a blank stare She will never know how it’s like to be in inner despair

My only discernible talent is writing they say

But I’m educated so badly it seems quite shit 

My grammar is poor, punctuation even worse

I spell at less than an average level

My talent is writing they tell me, 

I have imagination they say

But the times I choose to speak

heads turn the other way

I can’t engage people with what I say

If my talent is writing then this is it, 

doesn’t seem very talented does it?

My talent is writing 

My talent doesn’t exist 

To have talent you must have passion in your field

I think that part of me has failed

I’ll fall back in line, just get back to work  

go back to the grindstone 

even though it hurts.

It makes me despair

day after day

Seeing people interact in this way.

No passion, no sole, no meaning

Just; 

I went out drinking.

My mind feels imprisoned in a thick layer of bullshit

Synapses fail

Thoughts drown in a melee of miss-fits 

I’m drowning I’m my own thoughts

They surround me, 

come out all at once

Indistinguishable

Inaudible

Dead before they began

My talent is writing? 

You mean I can put pen to paper and make it seem meaningful

Like a newspaper journalist or someone from advertising

or a thousand monkeys

My talent is not fitting in 

My talent is to tolerate 

Abuse, lies, humdrum, la la la, blah, blah, blah

Put up with it, that’s me.

Don’t let it bother you, or at least don’t let people see

Let no-one know you exist 

Sush!!

Someone is speaking 

What are they saying?

did you see that thing? Doing that thing that it did?

I’m not a writer 

I’m not talented enough

I’m long since crushed 

I can’t think straight for more than a minute or two

My mind is in a rush

to say nothing

It just thinks..

Makes me tense 

Makes me think they all hate me

Makes me feel useless.

I’m not a writer I don’t think.

I’m barely human any more, I can’t think.

My writing is shit, so you can see

The odd one might be good 

the rest just stink 

I read them back to myself and I think

What sort of sad, lonely loser wrote this?

I’m nothing more than a poor hipster with a bit of imagination

And that’s not rare,

As fresh as pornography with the ability to get people to stare 

I’m giving it a last chance at a last chance saloon

Failure I fear will occur 

once again

Just hear me out this one time, please take my word, I can't lie to you. It's everything you do, everything we do, I won't lie I have it bad.