Beautiful Flood

With a brain this big it's hard to shut it up, but i decided instead to open the flood gates and let it pour out. With each sentence that floods the page I find a new life taking shape in me, I'm changing somehow, getting better. A new life is being reborn inside me. there is no more hatred, and rage, and confusion, and worry. Everything is coming out and leaving me, leaving my brain and it's staining this paper. You would think with so much built up that this page would turn red, or black, but it just takes it. In it's simplest form words on paper are easing my pain. I am no longer fighting myself on the inside, I'm fighting my hands and fingers not going fast enough to keep up with the ever flowing river that is coming from my brain... I no longer want to shut my brain up ever again... I want to unleash it... I want this river that is flowing from me to wash over my life. Flood everything and start fresh, reborn from the waters that came from inside that once held so much passion.  Good passion, bad passion, it doesnt matter any more because it's all out now, it's out there for everyone to see, to take in, to learn from. That is what I can do, that is what I can give. I can take away my pain and suffering on the inside and I can turn it into something beautiful and useful on the outside. I had no idea what kind of power I had that lay just beneath the surface. No idea that I had this much to say. I'm not a writer, I have never thought of myself as a writer, and yet here I am on my computer just endlessly typing. I had a very bad day, I hated everyone, everything pissed me off, I was having problems with a girl. I had an idea, a thought about this particular girl and I had to write it down, I had to start writing, it was an urge, an impulse. One that could not be ignored. So i started typing, and typing and typing and I got it all out of me for the time being... and my day got better. As if by some miracle all I had to do was dump all the bad shit in my life onto this page and it was instantly gone. I just had to get it out. I removed it like a damn tumor, but instead of it being a nasty useless tumor on the outside now, it is this beautiful work of art. Someone on the outside looking in at what I had typed today would say I am a lunatic, a weirdo, someone who makes almost no sense in my endless rambling, and yet there is beauty there. My writing is a beautiful thing, so in cutting out my tumor and puting it out there on display I am clensing myself and giving the world beauty. How had I not thought of this before?  Later on in the day (see, i'm jumping around again, not making any sense...) My day was getting bad again, the bad thoughts had returned, not all the same thoughts mind you, there were new ones. Some about the same girl, others of all the other negative things in my life. My brain enjoys torturing me, sabataging my good mood. But this time I was ready, I had a new tactic... I started writing it down again. Another rambling... but a beautiful one. And it helped, again, only temporarily, but that will suffice for now, it's like puting a band-aid on a bullet wound... to the head... But on my way home all I could think about was writing again, I just wanted to sit in the basement and write. Just empty my head completely, I took a very quick shower, tried calling Her (no answer) and then sprinted downstairs to type... this started off as a much better story, I have def lost talent and any form of story telling now... now I'm just typing whatever I'm thinking... tank's empty right now. more to come...