Topofmyhead قصص

Just a short story.

This is a collection of poems that I have written off the top of my head and made sure that it came from my heart. If it is sad I was feeling sad if it was silly I was feeling silly and etc.

I don't know why I'm writing this, hopefully writing it, will help me figure that out.

A l l J e n s e n w a n t e d w a s t o b e w e l l . * * * * * * * If you want to know the purpose of this story and my reason for writing it please read the next paragraph(s): This story is for me more than it is for you. I'm putting my writing to practice in order to cultivate and hone my skill as a growing writer. Since there are other projects that are more of my center of focus this one won't be carefully or thoroughly edited. Nor have I put intensive research into subjects that may relate to the story. Considerable time will not be spent on it either. To be quite honest, I have no idea exactly where this story is going and I can't say whether it will be worth the read or a rewarding read. It's entirely up to you to decide that. So I'm not going to vouch for something I wrote merely because I wrote it. I want to see what I will come up with. I want to see how I'll swim, when I throw myself into the largest of seas, the sea of imagination and creation. I can say however, based off what I've written so far it will be a dark, quiet, oddly paced, and gloomy piece. At least, that's how I feel when I write this story and that's what I see although the full vision isn't quite there yet. It's slowly focusing into clarity like a camera lens or your vision when you just wake up. If the exploration of darker themes bother you or make you uncomfortable to an unbearable degree, then I don't think I would recommend this.

A poetry series about my obsession with writing on cardboard boxes, using sharpies, off the top of my head, and unable to edit or correct. These are the true words, in a series, that just pour out of me and I have no control: I am a bottle with no spout. My natural writing is to let the words go and limit my brain's involvement post writing. Edits will happen, but my proof that I actually write these poems without thinking about the words I'm using is proven by my inability to erase sharpie, and the cardboard boxes those sharpies (and my words) touch.