this self is the result
the result of me
creating something.
a yearning to do.
a longing to make.
the need to say.

as has often happened, i have once again the desire to create something, SOMETHING, whatever it may be. something that is beyond pure thought, pure enjoyment, or entertainment.
Silence!, Outside World,
for I, am speaking now.
Shut up youtube,
Stop the music,
Read nothing;
Write-Only-Memory surrounds me,
for I, am to read now.

no more notifications,
no more playback,
no more output,
listen and learn, machine.

sick i am
of the everconsumptive existence, lack of presence, lack of living, the book telling me what i am, the video what to think, what to do but never do it.
and yet i lack the thoughts, the creative spark, the inspiration, to always create and never consume. i need feedback, but i get stuck in it, and most of is just feed, no back, no conversation, stagnation, a snapshot frozen in time that never existed, a hall of never.

i have created something today
and it was good
will i tomorrow?