"What you think of yourself is much more important than what others think of you." --Lucius Annaes Seneca
"I lost my pill. What will I do? What will I do?"-- Nobius BlackI love that last piece I posted
Cerrado. The words are slowly returning to my head, churning when I breath in, coming out when I exhale. It's amazing that when I feel good, I write pieces like it, I return to dark. Poetry is therapy. Weight drops off my shoulders.
Yet, when I'm depressed I can't scrape together the mental energy to write a sentence much less a piece. Never think I am a person on the brink of suicide. One primary reason that I create is so that I don't become that person two seconds away from taking a gun to my head. If my Dad had done the same perhaps he'd still be with us today.
-posted by Nobius 8:41 AM 
