suddenly too tired for capitalization

[mezzanineview]

sometimes i wonder if i'm just writinglivingexisting blind. there's so much i don't see, so much people realize before i do, and for once i'd love to make a discovery of my own, love to explore a concept that someone hasn't thought of, love to speak in terms that weren't so literal, for lack of having any other way to express myself. metaphors come awkwardly to me, don't feel genuine; all i can do is write it/see it/ tell it how i know it is to myself, but i wonder if it's only because i haven't lived yet, if it's because i haven't risked myself by putting myself in the line of fire and allowed myself to be torn to pieces just yet. is it really so bad a thing? is it really so terrible to be broken down and live to tell the tale?

it's better to have love and lost than to have never loved at all, in all senses that it applies to experience.

i feel like i'm always stealing someone else's words, even when i'm not looking at them eye to eye. it makes me wish things haven't all been discovered already, so there'd be a bit left for me, to make me worthwhile. writing is my catharsis, but i wonder when it'll stop feeling like self indulgence, tampering with other people's lives for my sake.

many people have found this out long before i have, but it's not just catchy and it's not just music and it's not just words, but i'm really only just discovering how deep it runs. always playing catchup.

stay golden.