I Blame It On The Heat (An Experiment)

The sweat on my back compensates for the tears I won't shed.

I can't take criticism when it's hot.
Or when it involves my intelligence, 
I AM stupid.
I am stupid.
I'm sitting in the train.
I feel like I'm being choked.
(I'm being choked).
I'm wearing bright orange.
I wish I was wearing black.
My head feels like a push door that's being pulled.
I need to take a deep breath.
(I can't breathe).
They're right.
They're always right.
I don't understand why I keep challenging them.
I am a bad writer.
My sentences are too long.
I change subject mid-sentence.
My subjects are wrong,
I am incomprehensible.
I am.

I need to concentrate on the music.
I can't hear the music.
I look out of the window.
The world is rushing by.
The world is always rushing by.
I'm on the way.
I'm in the way.
I'm always an obstacle.
I'm always standing where people want to walk.
I wish I was a better writer.
(But I'm not).
But I can be.
(Can I?)
If I try.
If I comply.
(Can I?)

I'm going to be sick.
I feel sick.
My hands are wet.
I want to cry.
I'm not going to cry.
I'm not.

Listen to the music.
Try to concentrate on the music.

I'm back at the beginning.
I'm back with nothing.
I've got nothing.
I'm going to create something.
Am I?


  1. I love your writing so much <3

    1. Thank you! (opinions may differ, that's what makes this world varied and I guess a stimulant to strive for better... (or it can also be very destructive and make you, me, doubt about everything you've, I've, ever done -not only written- in the world... yeah...)). *silence* Thank you! ;)


  2. Wonderful post!
    Have a nice week-end!
    Gil Zetbase

    1. Thank you! Oh weekend, why do you have to come to an end? *sigh* ;)



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