http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=139341
I think the words 'fuck' or 'shit' or the phrase 'son-of-a-bitch' (roughly)
or 'damnit', (but emphasized a bit more because it's the
soft-porn version of cussing)
should be added to the phrase 'writer's block' shit
got a nice ring to it, but on a lighter top.ic...
or at least...a lighter note/I can't grip the damn pen/when...NO!...
my mind's moving at a hundred miles anhour/that wasn't a typo
maybe it was, once I was in love/and I wonder what's on T.V./see
it's/like/it's A.D.D. and not 'THE BLOCK', or so it seems
it's like some damn villian on Ritalin feeding me speed again/when
he's speeding past me like/some/kind of sadistic stone-age queen/then
...stops and watches me fly past...with/that wry gasp and histerical laugh/its...not so funny to me...
because as I struggle with the words thrown .or. drawn from my mouth
this droning/out.cast grown from my own being must be cast/out
this vile and venomous vendetta viciously taunts me with viscosity
and often flaunts IT'S spEEch imPEDIMENT...its evident/that
I/have one because/my words lack...relevance/and
this 'fucking writer's block'
I have 'writer's block...son-of-a-bitch'
this 'writer's block damnit' 'shit'!
but what is 'writer's block'?/this
entity/this
excuse to blame on others
this 'get the hell outta here...I'm THINKING'
no...it's the lack of creativity
the lack of words/for lack of a better word/i
know its ubsurd/but what the fuck was my point?
sitting at home and all roads lead to Rome/and
when there, do as they do/but I'm in Japan/and have no words thrown...
it's kinda like those artists/who look at a blank canvas and get pissed and spray paint on the white plane, just a jesture of the pain they feel when/they have.fucking.'writer's block'
right behind them's a mindless flock to tell them that what they just did/was
...art...
I want to tear these people apart/and take this artist thrown/abAck/and
throw his ass to the lions...look at those paintings, I wouldn't buy them
would you?
would/you buy a page of scribbled ink/blots only to find/that
this riddle, a mess riddled with mesh metaphors was nothing more than lined/crap
I wouldn't buy that,
did you see the loose-leaf supported by the 'blue-line' group-ies
a three-ring circus of possibilities/lacking abilities?
if you did/you wouldn't buy this then
you'd steal it again, like the script from my mouth
only to rip and gouge the only thing I give by choice
my voice
MY page IS torn but with more than three holes
because life is more complex than that
three holes...ooohhhh no that would be too simple, understood?
because.see. my life is out of context and my text is located in a spiral notebook that shreds my thought with the sound of those little holes being fucking ripped
and I can here each one out of context as it happens fast
I can't even get a band-aid to last, so I rip that off at last
only pro.cras.tinating cause the last thing I want to do is sit here and write
write this trite and treasonous 'tarry' that taunts, riddles and tortures while I type...
or scribble...
ok, I'm done...my damn fingers hurt