Well, as far as I can remember, I have always been a writer. What I mean by that is that I have always put pen to paper and written about something - be it a diary, lyrics, poetry, short stories, scripts or even just letters. The first real thing I started was a 13 episode television series (which I have completed) which revolveded around the Nine Inch Nail's album 'The Downward Spiral' where I took each song and put my character through a test depending on the lyrics of each said song. It was based on my experiences in general but really focused on the hate I had (still have?) for my Father.
Around the same time I was writing a lot of lyrics as well as putting music to them and coming up with tunes on my guitar and keyboard - again, I completed this and it turned out to be a double album's worth of material.
Then came 'Love or Suicide and the Life In-between' and a flood of other poetry and short stories written about everything and nothing. These days, I have several projects on the go, have been shortlisted several times in competitions and have actually won first prize in a poetry competition for The Writing Magazine. I am in the process of writing a couple of scripts and contribute to The Erotic Woman's poetry section as well.
So, back to my original query - why do I write?
I find it is a very important form of expression which can describe the most horrible and beautiful aspects of life - and in doing so, is very therapeutic. It also gives my brain a workout and has a limitless scope and vast subject matter. I also enjoy it. I like to live out fantasies and create characters I can relate to or are extensions of my own personality. I am never short of inspiration either - in fact I just need to open my eyes and look around. Not only that, but I love to read. You have to be a lover of books (actual, hold in your hand, smell the paper, use a book mark type books) to write well...write what you know and what you would want to read!!
So, that's why I write. I could go on and on digging deeper and deeper into every aspect of what I write, why, when and how...but for now, the above paragraph is a perfect summary. Words, oh such sweet words:
How you gonna see me now?
How you gonna see me now?
With words and plastic plates.
Block letters and a forced bow.
Furrowed brow, heart that hates.
How you gonna see me now?
With keys and blinking lights.
Inmates ride an enormous cow.
Concepts reach imaginary heights.
How you gonna see me now?
With debit cards maxed out.
Nothing to show for it…wow.
Head high this mystery snout.
How you gonna see me now?
With full stops ending your words.
Punctuation revolving their rows.
Flying crosses mating with birds.
How you gonna see me now?
I’m nothing more than a blank page.
You will never see me now.
Locked in this computer cage.
We’re all crazy.
We’re all crazy.
We’re all crazy.
We’re all crazy.
We’re all crazy.
We’re all crazy.
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