Building Blocks (slam poem)

Creativity.

Music, films, art, books, sketches, prose, doodles, ideas, story plots, long walks, pens, pencils, sharpies, notebooks, sketchbooks, sounds, sights, thoughts, wishes, dreams, pictures, headphones, cartoons, chords, drumsticks, guitar picks, marker stains, daydreaming, and then…

Nothing.

It hits me like a truck.

A wall, blocking me from it all with an abrupt halt.

But is it my fault?

No, it’s my curse.

My demise, my downfall, my disease

Like as if what keeps me going can only displease.

Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe

That once offered a release

Can only deceive.

But how can this be?

I thought they told me I should be proud of my interests.

That- everyone has something that makes them happy.

But why do my passions feel the need to harass?

It’s like one day it’s ecstasy and the next it’s like tear gas.

Why can’t it just make up its mind?

Sure, the highs are great, but their time is defined.

While the downs seem to last forever and leave me hopelessly blind

Does this happen to everyone who is creatively inclined?

Meanwhile, my life reaches slow motion,

As if I’m jogging underwater in the middle of the ocean.

It becomes painful to do the things I love.

I start hating it,

Dreading it,

Shunning it,

Until I realize that instead of escaping to it- I’m escaping from it,

That- instead of daydreaming, I’d rather spend my time staring blankly into space,

That- I might as well start calling myself a head case,

That- I suddenly become more interested in sleeping than dreaming…

All those colors-

All those colors that once appealed to the eye

Have become nothing more than a paler shade of gray,

Getting paler,

Paler,

Paler, until-

All is white.

Like I’m stuck in this dull, black hole deprived of light.

As though it already reached it height,

And that everything I wanted to write

Went gently into that good night…

But then again…

Maybe this is all just part of what makes me…me.

After all, I’m nothing without creativity.

Without the downs, there would be no highs, and

Without these building blocks,

There’d be no sky-

Scraper...

Maybe this block is only a distraction,

And other people experience this with their own satisfactions,

Because for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction,

Right?