Someone told me ...

Today someone told me
Something truly profound

That my writing is beautiful
And written word is how the soul speaks

This has I spired me to attempt to write this post again after it was lost

What to write about though?
That is to say, when I begin I never know where or when I'll end
And every post draws further from the origional post.

Ah look see that ?
Did you notice it.
He snuck free for a second

My imaginary friend
That's all too real
he creeps out without proper attention
Or medication


You probably wouldn't like him.


But have you met him already

Has he touched you?



Held you?
Charmed you?

Maybe...

Wronged you?
Hurt you?

Lied to you?

My imaginary friend has been quite busy
He's made real rounds
Been out and away
Far and wide.

And he's taken me on a helluva ride

Unlike you or I
Not cometely human
But obsurdly
Different

They point of view
Of a monster

The face of an angel
Too much the sinner
Redemption will
Never clense

Even now writing this
Am I real?

And as you read this
Are you sure of what you're reading?

Do you believe you
Know me?

Am I the origional
Or the copy

Which one is real?
Am I a figment of
My own imagination??

Oh fuck it

DAmn blog app broke and I lost one

I'm not even gonna try to reclaim it

The pits of my psychie will never release it.

It was about writing these blogs

You see when I start I never know where I'll end
And sudos ends always justify his means.

But more the. That it's a beautiful lost tragedy

And I don't know if I can write again for a while.
This is really more painful then I thought it would be.