Inf's Reading Corner

Infinitys_End · March 9, 2009, 7:07pm

Poetry and writing is a secret hobby of mine. (Let’s keep it a secret, ok?)

First, a little bit about me.

? I cannot recall a time in my life where I have ever truly and firmly believed in something, I am? an easily influenced person. I do know right from wrong, but they don’t act as barriers or guidelines in my life, I just use it to categorize my past actions. I’m not proud of it, but it seems I have a lot more in the ?wrong? column. However this does not necessarily mean all of my ?wrongs? are ?bad?, in fact much good often comes from me doing ?wrong?. It’s strange that for someone who can not truly have solid ground in believing anything, can be such an influence to the people around him. People have told me that I have changed the way they see themselves and the world around them and thanked me for it, in return I can only give them a blank stare while I wonder what they are talking about, sometimes even who they are.
? I’m full of great ideas, this I know, ideas for community projects, outreach, even things closer to home for me, like video game ideas or photography. I must have a couple dozen video games in production, I never get very far into their design before I either lose inspiration or get another idea. I don’t seem to have the drive to complete anything I begin, I wanted to start a photography club for here in the South Valley, but I don’t want to make the effort to make it happen. I want to take dance lessons, but I’m too afraid to take the initiative and go to a school. I want to stop drinking, but I don’t care to go to an alcoholics anonymous meeting; so I just drown myself in another bottle of alcohol. (That last one was a joke, calm down.)
? I don’t know what my beliefs are, I know I believe in something, I just don’t know what.
I know I have the capability of finishing all the projects I start if I just sit down and work, but I get sidetracked, or I fall asleep, or I just stop caring. If I just sit down and not give myself any other choice I know I can get things done, it’s how I get things done.
I suppose that means I don’t care to believe.

The Night is quiet and still, yet it is so elating.
I feel warm and protected in my room.
Yet I stare out my window as if waiting.

I want to walk into the cool night, but here I?m debating.
The longer I sit, the more this place becomes a tomb.
The Night is quiet and still, yet it is so elating.

I look into the dark, and my heart feels like its inflating.
I want to go outside, to where the dark things loom.
Yet I stare out my window as if waiting.

Across the street she reads under lamp, my heart relating.
The dark surrounding her; like a costume.
The Night is quiet and still, yet it is so elating.

I watch her go by, the gentle light near her abating.
She seems like a memory now; so delicate, I gloom.
Yet I stare out my window as if waiting.

I wish I had met her, my heart lost, my mind negating.
I want a second chance, ?she may like me too? I assume.
The Night is quiet and still, yet it is so elating.
Yet I stare out my window as if waiting.