Rivers

I'm considering uploading a video of me reading this aloud because I've recently become interested in spoken word poetry thanks to the likes of George Watsky and Sarah Kay, so watch this space (I'm also not sure if it has the emphasis I want it to when it's just written down).

I don't want you to think I'm one of those Hollywood-esque, star struck, over the top, over-dramatic twenty-some things who thinks that life is easy.

I don't want to fill your minds with clichés like "the more you learn, the less you know" and "what goes around comes around",

I just want you to realise that we all have dreams, goals, ambitions.

We all have places we want to reach one day and you need to realise that that's okay.

And this is my dream.

Every time I put pen to paper it's like a river flowing down a mountainside.

There's something in the way my mind intertwines with the words I have been speaking since the day I started to talk.

My connection with syllables and similes, adjectives and adverbs, alliteration and hyperbole, is something that I can't quite describe.

For a while I was afraid of this gift. 

Surrounded by musicians, painters, dancers I was afraid to let my talent shine because "nerd is the word" always came to mind.

I can't lie, I love to sing, so I took up guitar and made a half-assed effort at writing songs.

But my lack of persistence took over, ever so slowly, and, eventually, I once again picked up my pen and paper and did the one thing that comes oh, so naturally.

People ask me why I write, why I'm so ready to place my heart in the wide open space we affectionately call "the interweb" for everyone to see.

Well, friends, I'll tell you this now: I'm not the only one and I have been inspired by many other great writers to do what I do; I am definitely not alone. 

Whether they focus on poetry and prose, sing their hearts out, rap faster than George Watsky, write fan fiction, or take part in the blogosphere, there are plenty of other people doing just what I do.

But, sometimes, I wonder the same thing (for different reasons, of course).

You see, the path that I have chosen may never pay the bills.

The government don't want to support those of us who dream higher than numbers and equations so I guess I'm stuck... 

Writing out words that protest how frustrated I am, even though David Cameron will never listen.

If this is democracy then why are the arts and humanities never given a chance?

So maybe it's all in vain, right? 

Maybe this foray into spoken word poetry will never go any further than the pages of social networking sites, Forever ignored by the artists who inspire me and never found by the people who need to be inspired.

But, until words go out of fashion and those of us who create art are placed in prison,

I will keep writing.

Until the day I die I will fight for the use of language.

And I'm sure some of you will laugh at me when you hear this,

Some of you will cringe and some of you might even feel the need to ask "why?"

And after hearing my previous words I will assign you to the "lost cause" group,

The people who just don't want to understand because you don't like what I do and I'm fine with that.

You may make more money than me but, as film maker Mickey Smith once stated,

"If I can only scrape a living, at least it will be a living worth scraping."