crankgameplays imagines

[25] poet

((partially inspired by poet by bastille aka one of my freaking favorite songs ever))

You sat at your desk typing away at your latest poetry collection. Your publisher had given you a forward of almost $10,000 for the book, and it was due by the end of the next month. Eighty-eight poems exactly were to be included in it, but much to your dismay, you’d only managed to pen fifty-nine. In the middle of a half-assed attempt to write something about the changing of seasons, you threw your keyboard across the room in anguish. There was no point in writing if your heart wasn’t in it. Why wasn’t your heart in it?

You had risen to fame in the past year across the poetry community, getting huge offers from major publishing houses and many accolades for your free-form expression of raw human emotions and bringing new points of view on already explored topics. You could write freely about whatever you wanted. But now your ideas and words were dried up. The river of emotions that once swelled at its’ banks within you and cascaded out your fingertips across paper seemed to just disappear. Lately you’d been going through the motions of your daily life as automated as a robot.

With a deep sigh, you determined that you would get nothing done just sitting in your apartment, and decided to head out and do some people-watching in the local park. Throwing your notebook, a pen, and your phone into a bag, you locked the door behind you before descending into the bustling streets of LA.

You didn't quite like the city, too many people everywhere, so you didn't ever stray from your quiet apartment complex on the outskirts of town. Your publisher was in LA, so it was more convenient for you to be here than in your preferred lodging deep into rural areas. Wherever you could find good food and good people, you would stay. That's how you had lived everyday since you turned 18 and graduated high school. Couch-surfing across the country to get ideas and keeping every scrap of paper you wrote your poetry on for years.

Your agent insisted you at least tried to settle down nearby while they were getting this huge deal through, it was going to be your first collection after your big break 13 months ago. You reluctantly agreed, maybe it was time to tame your free spirit and find normality for a little bit.

Finally, you had trudged through the throngs of people and came across a quiet park that was close enough to others that you could observe them well, but not close enough to where their precense overwhelmed your otherwise serene bubble. Slinging your bag up higher across your shoulders, you gripped the trunk of a large oak tree and began scaling it. You always liked being up high, it cleared your head and gave you physical and figurative perspective on what's going on around you.

After settling in, you pulled your notepad and pen back out, scanning the park below for any means of inspiration. Minutes passed and you were starting to get bored. The only people that had come through were an old man and his little yippy dog, not exactly the most inspiring thing. You decided to go back to your apartment and get some lunch, but a car pulling up stopped you. You sat half-dangling in the tree for another split second, watching as the doors opened and bunch of people streamed out. Quickly hauling yourself back up into the tree, you hid yourself amongst the branches, hoping they couldn't see that you were there.

The people seemd to be a lively bunch of ranging hair colors, from brown, to blonde, and one boy with bright blue hair caught your eye. He was carrying a camera, filming the brown-haired boy and the tall, curly-haired guy with them. You watched with intrigue as they filmed some sort of football-related skit.

They stayed for a bit longer, just hanging out and messing around. The whole time your eyes never strayed far from the blue-haired boy. Your eyes followed him as they all went back to their car, but he didn't climb in, instead talking to the brown-haired guy that seemed to be their leader of sorts. The brown-haired guy nodded, climbing into the drivers seat and driving away as the other boy jogged over to the tree you were hiding in.