Give me something to write about.I am starting to be low on ideas.What happen to the creator inside me?Beginning to push myself to the limits of creating something out of nothing.My hands,my eyes,my body,every organ inside me craving itself to fund me something that,i could speak out.May be the mind just want something else.Is it love?Is it sex?Is it food?Is it people?What do you want from me?I just keep on writing and writing and writing until i reached a point where there is no more to write on anything that provokes me.Creativity is a very damn hard thing to come out.You need some kind of an inspiration or space to give out what is best inside you.
So without much further questions i came to the conclusion that everybody in the world has left and i am the only one remaining.I was digging the hole to myself because if i die in the open the vultures and scavengers would feed on me.I cannot die like that 'cause in the afterlife i have to have my organs in position.And i became unconscious and fell in the grave hole.The earths crust started to change and an earthquake occurred.The walls of the grave slide and i was covered with dirt.Mother earth took care of my karma.She started a wild fire for holy smokes and started the rains for holy water.The cracking of the valley pulled out a tomb stone above my grave.It had a number written as 16 16 13(ppm).
Good concept man :)
ReplyDeleteThanks man... may i know your name?
DeleteI would like you to write somthing about hope and a beautiful life ahead.
ReplyDeleteKeep up the good work man :) keep going
ReplyDelete