thoughts are fleeting

I thought about the weekend that the poets came to town; a hundred poets from two dozen universities and colleges all converged on my school for three days. I thought about how it made me feel like I was in high school again: full of ideals and creativity and piss and vinegar. I thought about how a hundred people all absorbed with words, all with ears fixed to the stage and a pencil burning a hole in their hand found inspiration in each other.

I thought about how making music so closely mirrored the feeling that a hundred strangers brought to light from a dormant place inside me. I thought about how much better off musicians would be if they dropped the egos that divide them and became a support structure to each other rather than a hindrance. I thought long and hard about the days when I played music for three or four of a seven hour school day and was not satisfied. Not satiated.

I thought about the night that my roommates sat in the basement and painted all over the walls in bright colors. Murals and doodles in all the colors that passed through thought while I sat in Gabe’s reclining chair and wrote because nothing inspires creative thinking like the actions of creative people. I thought about the countless words and the nearly completed screenplay that sit idly in my room unused and unread and unfulfilled and neglected.

I thought about how I used to feel better than I do now. But when I really think about it…I’ve always felt this way.

I thought about the days when I could walk up and speak to any person I set eyes on. I felt as though I was a representative of the many people who were just as fucked up as they looked…the more a person tried to avoid eye contact the more I spoke to them. I thought about the closeness that I felt to every person in this world. Thought of the closeness that I felt to every tear that rolled down every cheek and every laugh that rumbled from every gut and every sigh that filled every silence from every mouth that draws breath.

I thought about how close I came to madness…I thought about how much pain there is in the world…

I thought about the faceless and the voiceless who couldn’t care less about what I think; those who never think about anyone, those who can’t think of anyone but themselves, those who have more important things to think of.

Then, I took off my headphones, and went into class, and thought about Shakespeare.