The Dispenser

I am not a writer. Writers are writing all the time. They fill up napkins, and notebooks, and diaries with all of their thoughts.

I am a dispenser. I wait to get filled with everything humanly possibly and then I hook up to some form of writing and use it as a release. Like syrup out of a tree, or milking a cow, it doesn't happen because the tree or the cow are good at it, it is just part of nature, and survival. So I dispense. Sometimes it comes out in all these rants and lots of honesty, and on the spot revelations that I'll later find fault in but were sufficient enough that I could write them out and it helps me make sense of things.  Other times I find myself spending lots of time with stuff like::

It was midnight bleak and weary
Ed. Allan Poe is pretty dreary
Fuck my life, my brain is scary
Poetry sucks, blah blah bleary

I feel like I understand myself  a lot more when I can write it out. Of course in a month or a week I'll read it all and be way pissed because There is just way more then that going on. That doesn't even cover it. and I sound like such a whiny immature dweeb. But whatever future Lindsay, that's your problem .
 Right now this is helpful.