So, if you are like me, you probably have a notepad application or something similar on your phone for those times when you’re in class or on the road and you really have to write something down. Me, I use colournote. For me, it doubles as a notepad for when ideas hit me at random times and as a diary. When stuff happen to me that make me feel sad or mad, I just take out my phone and start writing. The best part is that everyone thinks you’re texting. Ha!

Okay, my point is that my colournote is full to the brim and I have to start deleting stuff. *screaming* ‘No!!!!!!!!’
I’m a hoarder- or in proper English, I’m a compulsive packrat. Its like my OCD thing. I don’t throw stuff away. At home I have a box where I keep the smarties box after I finish the smarties and cookie tins are lined up at the side of my bed. This extends to never deleting anything. Like At all. When my phone is full, I transfer files to my laptop before I delete it- and even then its difficult. But now, my laptop is not working (and I’m super worried that I’ll lose all the files I’ve saved on it- but that’s another story) and I don’t have anywhere to transfer my notes from colournote to. So…drumroll…I decided to make the extra notes into a blog post series.
Now, my notes aren’t anything good or lyrical, usually they’re just an ugly burst of feeling but with a little polish, a few are readable. They’re still no good but then, neither is any of the stuff I post here. In fact, if you are still visiting here, you must be a glutton for horrible prose. In which case, I’m pleased to present you with your next helping of terrible writing.
WARNING: What I’m about to write is supposed to be a poem but I suck at writing poems so…CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Disclaimer: no1nerd is not responsible for any eyes, brains, hearts or any other body parts that may be damaged in the process of reading this poem. No1nerd cannot be sued in any court of law.
Proceed if you agree to the terms and conditions.
METAPHOR by no1nerd
I feel like rain in the summer,
Unwanted, Unwelcome.
Like those heavy drops,
My tears keep pouring.
Emotions wrestling one another
To get to the forefront.
Anger. Sadness. Blazing Rage.

Like a bull in a ring,
I feel caged, trapped,
Convinced that there are people
To be entertained,
Laughing at my expense.
Like said bull, I want to rage
And charge at the blood-red cloth,
In this case, wrapped firmly around everyone about.

Like the moon, I feel empty,
Deprived of my own shine,
Having to depend on another for a little glow.
Like said moon, I want to hide the day long,
Hidden from view,
Invisible and left alone at last.

I don’t want to smile.
I don’t want to laugh..
I want to hit something.
I want to cry.
I want to rage at someone.
I want to hide.
But I can’t.

Because I’m not rain,
Or a bull, or the moon.
I’m a human being
And I have to remain pleasant.
I have to put on an indifferent front.
I can’t give an inch or I’ll go crashing down.
I have to be strong.

So I won’t cry or rage or hide.
I’ll keep on.
By God’s special grace,
I’ll survive this.


Um…are you guys still there- or have I managed to scare you guys away? So, obviously I’m no Shakespeare or Byron but for some reason, I’m really proud of this. I was going through a tough time when I wrote this, around late last year. I was adrift and writing this helped me out.
Let me know what you guys think. Honest opinions.
Be gentle please.