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Bjork’s Notebook
At 6 am I am sitting with pen and blank paper
I am empty until suddenly at 4 pm at work, dominos set off in my brain and I am thinking about
something worth telling the world
At 10 pm watching videos about the keys to success, about how to love life again, and trying to
awaken the nerves in my body, in my fingertips
trying to feel the words like I’m supposed to
Waking up and remembering that being alive is pretty nice, even when the sky is grayer and
less blue and especially when the special hues of pink, and blue make cotton candy above me
On a Monday at 11 am scheduling something due at 12 pm
Stripping myself of what’s supposed to be important and finding what’s important
Forcing myself to have energy at 12 am
Making drowsy into dreamy rhymes and run on sentences
Life is creative
LIving authentically so I can tell you something real
Being vulnerable
Crying, so I can show any stranger who would like to take a look at tear stained pages
Painting a picture of my heart from yesterday and my hope for tomorrow and my nothingness
today so maybe someone else can relate and then there will be 1 less lonely person in the world
I pour myself over because being so full gets exhausting
I change so I can improve, I’m always searching for the next to do
The process is no process at all
On most days I play a song
Others I need static
On Monday's I can't pay attention
And on Saturday's words leave my brain and it resembles a barren attic
I always write with paper,
except for the days, I'm tapping on black keys
Some Days and I sit and I write a monologue
Some days I write a song
Most days I write a poem
Every day is a poem
Sometimes I write them
Sometimes I don’t
Sometimes being creative is just finding ways to get through the day a little differently