dedication to those I admire and aspire to be
October 17, 2003 � 6:08 p.m.

First Entry Today

What's worse than two bit hacks fronting like they are talented at something while being perpetuated as an unsung genius by nut asses that are riding their jock?!

Actually having a modicum of talent and intelligence but losing the knack of being able to enunciate or express it anymore.

Not to say that I am incredibly talented, because I have never believed myself to be some great novelist, artist, or poet...but I have always thought I did alright in those areas. Lately, though, I feel completely retarded in those areas, and more so than that, I have noticed how totally stupid I sound in regular conversations. I overuse words like...well like, really, because, totally, and completely. I...the girl nick named "the walking dictionary", that has volumes and volumes of words stored in my mental vocabulary, have been reduced down to sayings such as "And yo...forreal though...she is like really pissing me the fuck off!" and sounding like an uneducated ditz.

True, I am a college drop out, but that's due to finances...not stupidity. I think I've been dumbing myself down for so long that it's finally stuck, and now I can't write fluently, effortlessly wax poetic, mindlessly sketch something, or speak intelligibly anymore.

I am becoming the thing I've always feared being seen as the most...an airhead. The typical ghetto girl fuck slut that I have always tried to steer clear of being labeled as....in short...a moron.

I've always been the smart one in the group of pretty girls...the one that everyone comes to for advice...the poet, the artist, the talented one...I was born and raised and praised as The Lyrical One...and now...the lyrics are gone...and my identity is fading fast.

The worst part, though, is that I'm NOT stupid and I DO still have talent, but for the life of me, I can't get it out of me. I see pictures I want to draw but when I sit down to do it, I don't have the patience to try. I have ideas for tons of fat ass storylines and characters, but when I go to make the outline it all falls apart. When I'm lying in my bed or in the bathroom or staring off into space, the most beautiful verses tumble from lips to kiss the air, but when I try to write them down or remember them, they vanish completely. When I am talking to people, so many witty remarks or intelligent insights come to mind, but when I go to say it, it all comes out wrong and I end up looking like an idiot.

The words are still there, the pictures are still there, the passion is still there, the love is still there...but the ability is gone. Gone, gone, gone, gone, gone.

I started this diary to help me muddle through my Cowboy issues, but then it turned into a writing exercise for me...to get the creative juices flowing again and get back into the practice of writing poems and short stories...but this has laxed into my safe place to vent and rant and dream...and I wouldn't have it any other way. I was reminded today of why I LOVE literature so much. I was guided to a diary by Under 800, and I felt it. I felt that spark. I felt the geek in me sit up and marvel at the genius behind the premise of his work, and then it all became clear.

Reading here...reading and following and adoring all of my favorites over there feeds my brain and soul. I come here not to hone my talent, but to bask in the sheer simple radiance of others. Poppy's entries always pour out like melodies you hear once and then get haunted by forever...Jane seamlessly weaves heartbreakingly beautiful excerpts about her love and her daughter...Girl Kisses paints pretty, quick imagery across the screen so simple and graceful that it hurts...and Liquid Mojo tells tales from his "manly" perspective, lacing them with bits of his heart and soul, invading your heart with his boyish charm. All of them over there------------------------>....these poets, these writers, these beautiful unsung geniuses of cyber space are the reason I come here. They are the reason I love to read and wish to write. And they honor me by reading me...by letting me in...by showing me their souls.

I don't think people really appreciate the beauty of it all...how here we are surrounded by simple raw talent at it�s best.

You do not need skill to recognize talent or greatness.

So I...the faltering star child, just wanted to put down in words how much I appreciate and adore the writers of Diaryland that I have been lucky enough to find...and that I am so humbled by the ones that come and read me...revelling in the mishaps of my so called life and leaving comments of encouragement. You know who you are.

I worship you completely.

You inspire me to be the writer that I have always aspired to be, and I just wanted to thank you for being my voice when I have no voice and expressing my thoughs when I forget how to do it.

Thank you for reminding me of what my true love really is...

...Beauty.

You are all beautiful to me.

It just feels good to have someone say that from time to time, don't it?