I've been in one of my super anxiety ridden states lately, which is always fun. One of the many fun things about being a hyped up, angst driven person is the truly crappy poems and free form writings the state inspires me to create.
I also get lots of bizarre ideas about things I want to do. My angst has a traveling companion oftentimes. Its name is mania. My manic thoughts want me to deal with my insecurity and anxiety by doing things I wouldn't normally do. Some of my latest winning ideas include:
- going on a ride-along with a patrol cop
- signing up with the county coroner's office to watch an autopsy as research for a writing project
- going to an open mic night for poetry and (fingers crossed!) flash fiction reading (I'd much rather read some of my flash fiction than my poetry)
My angsty poem is so bad I will spare any blog readers the horror of reading it. I will tell you what it's about though, so you can see why I decided not to post it. It's about an anxious and insecure person continually checking his/her email hoping to hear from a special someone; that special someone doesn't respond, so the anxious person speculates about what could possibly keep this other person from sending an email back. I may have been my own inspiration for this poem. I did take some license to exaggerate a bit though.
Writing seems to be helping my anxiety, so I suppose I'm off to create more poorly written poetry.
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