I just want to fucking scream. I want to scream until all the blues that are pent up in my soul comes pouring out; until all the murderous violence I feel inside bleeds out of my pores. I want to scream for all the stupidity I see in the world, both near and far. The stupidity of an endless war; of people still being judged by the color of their skin; of poor and homeless people living less than a stone’s throw away from the offices and homes of the wealthy. The stupidity of ‘trying to squeeze a dollar out of a dime when you haven’t even got a cent’. Of a president who can’t see the forest for the trees that he’s mowing down to pave way for more of the same bullshit he’s been laying for the past 6 years.
I want to scream the truth! I want to scream for a better life—not necessarily of fame or fortune, but one of realness and honesty. To not be afraid of what I want to be or want to do in this fucked-up world. I want my poetry to matter, Mr. Gioia, wherever you are! I want to live my raison d’etre to the fullest possible degree. To still be able to create beauty out of pain; to celebrate love and faith and sex and all the rest. In other words, to be human, as humanly possible.