I am not a writer.
I do not seek to write epic poems and tales of the heroic, I am not a storyteller.
I take pride to admit, I'm rather terrible at churning my imagination and placing it into an empty, physical existence. To be so cruel to my own imagination is to be crass, and an unsavory type that would make me. Let the candor of this statement reach you.
I am a poet.
I write scarcely, and honorably, and above all; controversially.
But do not mistake me for a journalist. I lay now a promise that I will not call upon my own demise in such a savage manner as such that the whole 'art' of journalism portrays. If I am ever caught writing about the lives of other people in quick news or are in fast fashion, you will know I have failed in my life, so feel free to have a go at me and my career then, yeah? A bold statement to make when
I am not a dramatist, I could ever only think about curling my being in the footprint of the likes of Oscar Wilde, but even a line like that is dramatically humble, don't you think? Perhaps I am just a bit of a dramatist.
Maybe I strive for cosmic horror in my poetry. My goal is to make the reader feel so small in the vast space that is everything and nothing in a singular thought. It's mad yet brilliant! And through my poetry, my simple, short, and dark poetry, I could make a reader feel so small compared to the stars of the nighttime sky.
When I write, something automatic stirs, whether or not I have inspiration doesn't matter. To me, when I write, it's all philosophy, and a slight bit of teen angst, of course, along with a firm hold on confidence in the tone of my works. If I feel like my voice would crack or shake with a line if I were to read it out loud, I know it's not the right fit and I'll have to rewrite it. If I feel like the piece wouldn't get stuck in the nook of the mind of a reader so that they'd end up thinking of it later, and cry as their thoughts wander, I wouldn't publish it. For me, a work needs to resonate within myself before I can feel it to resonate with others, it has to be strong, almost palpable, like the dusk. I refuse to use euphemisms to spare my readers' a sullen connection. I am not a writer.
As a person who is not a writer, I say this bluntly; I don't want to be famous, it sounds like a cluttered and tiring life, so I will not be famous, I will not be known. I don't want the expectations of others to continuously weigh down on me, I refuse to let my love of writing transform into a means of pleasing people. I will be, however, only the slightest bit notorious in my local walkway. Should my name ever go down in history, ever, I will know my greatest fault remains infamous even after my own death.
I am not a writer, because if I was, fame of any kind would be unavoidable, and it a hundred years or so, my words will be perverted to the new world era and its philosophies and expectations. I don't want my words, my precious words in which I bare my soul, to become someone else's. Take my refusal to fantasize about the future as final. Having already fallen into the despair of my own mind countless times, I do not seek solace in wanton impossibilities that seek only to strike tragedies. maybe I'm just afraid of the consequences of fame, I don't want to be my own downfall.
I look at the future, not to the future. There is no time to wonder what the universe has in store for me, there's no time to listen to people say, "Tomorrow will be better," Because I can only make tomorrow better on my own, I can only build my future on my own. Because of that, I am not a writer. Because of that, I am a poet. I write with purpose, and intention, and I will cram an entire two-thousand-word essay into seventeen and make people yearn for realization more so than any essay or journal entry ever could. By cause of this, I am not a writer, for no 'writer' could ever wish to make an audience feel so small, to want to express tears through reality and actively play the villain because who else would be willing to do so? I say this, because I am not a writer. My words now are authentic, and you be lost in their cacophony and pandemonium.
I am a poet, so here is my poem:
an ode to you who heard but had not understood;
what's it like, living in someone else's world?