So it has been brought to my attention that I should have hard copies of my poetry. All the beautiful empty journals and books this *writer* has bought over the years (there are literally dozens upon dozens in a tote under my bed) have mostly remained empty. I never really felt like I had anything to put in them. Nothing concrete. Nothing that was more than a thought that I could scribble out at a moment’s notice.
For a while I jotted everything down messily in an ugly, yellow, spiral notebook that I wrote quotes on and treated like dirt. I even rolled joints on it — but it was EVERYTHING to me. Until it got so tattered and beat up that I couldn’t read the quotes on it anymore — I couldn’t read the poems I partially scribbled over. I needed to use a new notebook and I knew I couldn’t allow myself or my words to become temporary anymore.
Things change over time. Words have a way of sneaking in and taking over. Pushing you. Even when you are already too close to the edge. Over time, it has helped me find my voice. And I think once you find your voice you don’t feel so temporary anymore. Sure, you are still mortal. But maybe, just maybe — your words will live on.
So, get yourself an ugly-ass yellow spiral notebook and beat it to hell with every poetic line and quote you can come up with. FIND YOUR VOICE. This takes time and courage. Fill every single line, space, page, cover… It’s ugly and messy, a metamorphosis of sorts. You will learn something, struggle and come out stronger.
