12 July 2012
Another title, another veil for my rambles.
I've never been much good at poems; in fact, in my entire 17 years I think I've only written one. It was about daffodils, and I was in Year 3. They put it up on the wall at school... and in Year 5 they did the same with my story.
And I like to think I'm good with grammar, (though I don't always toe the line), but I'm not much good with rhythm and I'm absolutely terrible at rhyme.
Flow is something I struggle with too. My sentences are fine on their own, but together they seem dis jointed and it's hard to get them to make friends. Being 'socially awkward' doesn't just apply to people anymore, it seems.
When you lump all of this together, it begs the question "Why do I bother?"
Do I ramble because I'm incapable of structure? Does my negativity stem from jealousy of other people's success? And does that jealously come from my own low self esteem? And does *that* come from my inability to make words form the picture that I see in my head?
If so, it's all just a vicious circle. But I'll make it into a Catherine wheel by shooting out sparkly new words whilst I spin.
Poems... • Opuss № I