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The art house effect


 
 
I dance the fine line of the unknown and the curious
I watch as shadows cling to the darkened corners of our rooms
Sanctuary, only to the darkest beasts of burden 
Like Atlas himself, I bear the constant weight of the world on my shoulders
With only pen and paper to feel any relief, which is scarce when it comes
Trudging on through the thickest of brain waves, like a heavy downpour in a concrete jungle
Relentless, incredible noise followed by excruciating silence
And yet I'm left to wither by the wayside
Holed up in some room some where
My brain beating against my skull as i fight to control the words and let them loose at my own discretion
And how foolish I was to think they could be controlled 
It's been a hard few weeks 
And I'm detoxing from the poison of writers block
I'm scribbling furiously
Pushing with an exponential force onto the paper in which I'm inflicting my affliction 
I write as fast as I possibly can 
In a vain attempt to share all that I feel with the few who care
I write so quickly
But there's never enough time.
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