What is worse than trying to make a mistake? Repeating the mistake.
I never learn. I sleep in between my two pillows cause I am now in a relationship. The irony of things. I never learn, you know why? Cause here I am again trying to write uninspired. As tragic as a broken egg on a carpet.
Everything I have written feels like rotten bread. It's all in good handwriting neat on the outside like the crust of bread but slice it in, read past the first paragraph and you will notice the green. Check out this handwriting, don't I write well? Cut through seemingly nice looking bread but green on the inside. The off taste. And you will be like... This is not Bobby, who wrote this? It is stale, it is flat, it is as disgusting and aweful looking as bad bread. Throw your phones in the bin, cause I am writing uninspired today. No, bad economy don't throw your phone, get off the net, save some money for real entertainment.
I want to write about horses, sorry ponies, the ones I and princess were on yesterday. Oh Naivasha is a beauty. I want to write about my lack of inspiration. It is so intense it feels like constipation, not that I have ever had constipation, but I have hear of people who have had constipation. I was in boarding school, one loo was next to the other. And when I say I heard about constipation I did.
The ahhhh ouch and other pain sounds coming-out of the next loo. Di you make noises in loos? What if you are alone?
You know someone is in pain but they can't be helped. Kind of like me, you can see that I am in pain, I can't write anything, and you can't write for me cause then that would nullify the purpose, you want to help me, but you can't help me, cause my inspiration is constipated, and I can't even write shit which can inspire inspiration. Please tell me you would help someone constipating, even if it is a hot chic. Leave the damsel in distress to her distress. She will thank you later.
What do you want to hear dames and sirs? You want to hear about how great the last year has been? The travel? What not... Guess what, I don't feel like writing about that. Just as much as you stars don't feel like commenting often. Only to find out you read, and I often hope you get embarrassed, but none of you is ever embarrassed about not commenting. What did you just say? I write for who? That I write for you? And that you can even leave this page right now? That you might even decide to spray paint my blog so that no one else reads it cause I was rude...
That am not the only blogger around... What are you telling me, I can't talk like I want to? That I must keep you thoroughly happy to stay or terribly sad for you to stay?
That I can't talk about small things, I have to talk about things bigger than life? Dramatize everything? If a small puppy barks at me I should not write that the small puppy barked at me and I ran. I should write that I ran like I was a dog with a tail between my legs. I should dramatize it and state that the dog was the size of a calf, it could jump so high even go over my head then stand in front of me with it's mouth open ready to eat me; and that that dog had plastic surgery, instead of teeth it had knives in it's mouth like it was a rapper dog with shiny teeth. Do you want me to write about that? Dogs that have had plastic surgery? Dramatize things like that...
Write that I ran so fast it wasn't my tail between my legs but the wind blew my dic backwards from the speed I was running I looked like I had a tail? You think that's a rich story?
I will not write that, however uninspired I am, if I was chased by a puppy so tiny it was still toothless, (even though I think puppy's are born with teeth) and I ran wetting my pants I will say it. And I will make sure i rush to Dexter's laboratory get of my clothes, squeeze all the piss out of them and tell you how many liters that toothless dog caused. After I write that I hope someone will laugh. And if you don't I will ask you to laugh, come on laugh. Laugh. Laugh. Laugh now. Please. And if you don't we move to the next paragraph.
We are in the next paragraph. I am uninspired. And I am not going to try to fake inspiration by being crafty. They say a bad story is a good story if the characters in the stories steal your heart, Is it true? Yes it is. You watch your favorite television show cause it has that character that you have fallen in love with, or one that you admire. That person is greater than life itself. She is extra ordinary. She is as beautiful as everything beautiful but most of all she is different.
And the writer makes that character extraordinary by making her own boats, and houses, gives her the best career, makes her the most sort after girl in the town, and you love her, and for the dames watching her, who might hate her, she makes men break necks and dames turn heads.
The writer makes her have a fault no matter how perfectly beautiful she is. She makes her have a past that always threatens to ruin all she has and all she will become. Who doesn't like a woman with a future and a past, and a little attitude to make it last, Drake does, do you?
That is why we love celebrities, cause they seem larger than life, they seem to lead extraordinary lives, but not too extraordinary so that we can't relate to them, they must walk on the same streets we do, travel on the same roads, but they must travel in cars larger than life or something. So that we are connected, like a country is connected with good roads.
Then just before you hate on them for having it all and a little more, they are in rehab, they are having a divorse and you love them. Isn't that why gossip is a successful industry in itself. You get fascinated when you hear some movie star was hit so hard with misfortune you start to think that if it were you in her shoes their is no way you would shave your head like that.
After the writer has made you decide that having everything comes at a price you must lose something like true love to have it all, it becomes the perfect ferry tale. The price of fortune and fame. Not just fortune and fame. Fortune and fame is arrogant. The price of fortune and fame is romantic. Oh prices and sacrifices, the helper of good literature besides vampires.
Is that what you want me to write? Is that what I write? Do you want me to be technical and build characters in my head, ones larger than life, extraordinary enough for you guys to look up to, and yet ordinary enough for us to relate to? Do you want classic conflict? And suspense... Do you want me to ask you whether the gun have bullets on the first paragraph, then tell you whether it had bullets or not at the last paragraph. So that am sure you finished reading. Or should I offer loli pops at the end of the post? (pun intended) even better, should I offer icecream? (now here I intend pun very much). But stars, allow me only today, I feel greatly uninspired.
Or do you want me to end this post right now wait till I am inspired to write something? When I am inspired, emotions are so heavy, I am stuck in a room and it is as if I am seeing ghosts. A ghost of jealousy standing next to me, one I just want to tear it's heart open and spit in it. A ghost of love which is a pretty girl carrying flowers only that she doesn't know she is creepy by virtue of her being a ghost. Imagine a ghost stalker, if it comes to that fcuk love right? Or not? You helpless romantics.
The ghost of hate which I think would have a long beard. Or the ghost of anger which I think looks like a bull which has smoke coming off it's nose eyes and other places I can't mention.
Should I write about how all this ghosts which are very real to me like anger is, hate is, love is, lust is, jealousy is, so real but when I try to touch them they can't be touched. When someone tells you that you don't have to be jealous and you believe them the ghost disappears... You re-read that post about jealousy and you were wondering if you were high that whole time? Or cringe... Only to find someone really related to that ghost of jealousy. And to her is was as live as a slap she sent on someones face that made us all think she is a tattoo artist.
If I wrote about such raw emotion would you listen? Would you read? Would you go through my other posts and try to find more? Or do you want me to seat here like a constipated boarding school student who has been eating bread and no vegetables and now is in the loo in the middle of the night making noises.
Ohhhh ahhhh ouch trying to get shit out of his system cause sometimes when you have no inspiration, and as if that is not enough, you also don't have shit. And sometimes when you are talented you can make shit sound so inspired. But look at the situation as it is now, no inspiration, no shit!
It's one thing to have misfortune, then it's another thing when people don't laugh at it, what can I say, no matter what you believe, misery loves company forks. Ask Tom, the actor in Tom and Jerry. (don't google I mean the cartoon) At least laugh at my lack of inspiration, don't ignore my constipation.
Would you rather hear about ohhhh ahhhh and ouch or a story with characters I made up in my mind so extraordinary you are attracted to them like people you are attracted to in real life, the extraordinary! Yet they are so ordinary you can relate to them?
If you ask me, you would rather hear about ohhhh ahhh and ouch cause maybe it's not uninspired shit I write about, maybe I crept up the loo and found the guy wasn't constipating but jerking off to some...
This is the end of my uninspired post. I hope it ended leaving you curious to know what I write about when I am inspired. Go on, take a look, I have so many post i might keep you company in jam the whole of next year.
Happy new year!
