Who Doesn't Love A Sunset At The Beach? This Is Why I Can't Live Inland... I Don't Know If I Could Live

Who doesn't love a sunset at the beach? This is why I can't live inland... I don't know if I could live without the salty sea breeze, marine-layered-mornings, and the burnt golden sun sinking into the blue

Poem 001

"Silence is not golden, unless it's a reward, Love becomes an injury when it goes on ignored, Words can never hurt us but they last ten times as long, Even though we may be right, the things we say are wrong, To call another evil is to fail to understand That every one of us have been the devil's idle hand." I kept my word and wrote a short poem. It's crappy as hell but I just wanted to put something into words, and I feel that poetry is the best medium for the expression of feelings because it's accessible to everyone with a language; an artist's brush takes years to master, a musician's instrument requires discipline, sculptors' hands must learn patience. But all a poet needs are language, and they can create from it whatever they wish. At this point, this blog may become another pedantic whiny poetry site, but maybe that's for the best. The alternative is just me whining, at least this way it rhymes and the words are slightly prettier. Anyway... I'm definitely going to post more poetry. They'll be my own composition unless otherwise stated- also, I'm obviously not a professional so if you have any constructive criticism please let me know, I'd love to have advice/help from anyone who sees a way for me to improve

Photo of the Day: Blue Point Sunset in Indonesia

Fiery skies over Blue Point beach in Bali, Indonesia on January 22, 2016. (killerturnip/Flickr)

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Poem 002

"In order to stay true ourselves, we all will have to lie That we are happy where we are and aren't afraid to die. If life's a game, how can we win unless we can adapt; Our will to live will drain from us and be completely sapped. But if I change, then who has won? The me who started, or the me who's done? Am I the same Or have I changed? Even my name Becomes rearranged; I know my heart and mind and soul have grown and broke and hardened, But if they hadn't then I would not have lived and become ardent. Maybe who I am and who I was are the same person, But if I hadn't turned the page my story would have worsened." I was reinvigorated into writing more by someone's very polite and encouraging messages, so here's what I came up with. I'm definitely going to try writing a little more often and we'll see if it doesn't improve. Constructive criticism always welcome.

Sleepless; Don't read

I still can't seem to sleep. It isn't true insomnia- if I go downstairs and grab the zzzquil, I'm sure I'd fall asleep after two or three pills. I just can't promise myself that I won't take nine or ten of them in the hopes I won't wake up... The point of this log is to tell my future self (when I wake up) that not sleeping like this isn't ok anymore. I don't care what it is I think I need to contemplate or consider, I need to find a way to sleep. Maybe it's the depression, or the fear of my nightmares, or the fear of falling into a dream so beautiful that I refuse to wake. But regardless of whatever is keeping me from sleeping, I need to find something to get me to sleep. Maybe I'll write a poem or something when I feel I can't sleep? I dunno.