Today was going to be a lovely chirpy tale about today's Open Mic Poetry reading and anthology launch, but when it comes down to it I don't have many thoughts apart from:
*I read my poems. It was ok. Not really a response but I wasn't really expecting one
*Why do you have to explain the origins of where the poem came from? I can't really say "well I am obsessed with a boy called Jack and i was texting him and this is the situation we're in but metaphorically it shows how he is reluctant to express his feelings as he's scarred from a previous relationship/wants to be single/maybe doesn't like me so this is about that k?" can I?
*The audience was a secular group of the editors wierd friends, so that was nice.
*Very poor refreshments. I did not enjoy my biscuit.
*I liked hearing some of the poems aloud (more the ones by the people I like)
*Some of the people that came to listen were actually lovely
*I volunteered to edit a short story anthology, and hopefully do a better job. (And by better i simply mean not giving up halfway through like the previous editors)
It is possible I have a negative spin on things simply because I'm feeling sad after having a long, long discussion/argument/shouting match with my parents, and then I spilled some pent up feelings and woes upon my friends, some of which the opinions I might not feel tomorrow, but today I feel pretty strongly about. It's sad. I feel like I'm constantly changed by the people around me and it just depends on who I believe in at the time. I hope every human thinks like this. Where do we get our opinions from? Nobody just gets some inner voice do they? Should they?
It's times like this I wonder who I am or if I'll ever truly know? Or if we're all just meaningless balls of clay moulded by the conditions around us before we are eventually washed away by the rain.
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