Perhaps,

Perhaps I am a muse.

Often times I feel that I can give all the advice, ideas, and influence away...and keep none for myself. It confuses me. A good idea pops into my head. I try to keep it to myself: write it down, say it, do it. But I generally fall short. 

I can tell you what you should do.

I can give you opinions and ideas.

I can give you the god damn world.

But I can't have any of it for me.

At least I have this blog. And this untitled poem that I wrote:

Words evaporate, dissipate.

When you try to hold on to them, their meanings crumble.

They become distorted.

What you knew in your mind to be so eloquent,

is now garbage. It is worthless.

Words come to me when I cannot understand

what to do with them; or what they do to me.

And so I sigh as they evaporate.

They scatter into thin air, 

perhaps to flutter past my cheek on occasion

whispers in the wind, or from a friend.

The words were never mind to hold.

I can feel it.

I always get depresses after seeing a really good movie, going to an awesome concert, or reading a really good book (see last entry).

This time isn't as bad, mostly because I know the next to books are on their way in the mail as I type this.

But still. I don't know exactly why I get this way...

I think it may have something to do with the fact that, deep down, I am either jealous of the characters or of the author (or the musicians/actors/characters). It's one of those things that you just can't help. So today I'm going to the mall and the gym to get my mind off things, and tomorrow there is going to be an amazing party. I just want to be happy.