What Inspires You?

One night, I was sitting at my first open mic. Now, like I said in my About section, I have been writing since I was very young. And, that has been all. Writing this book is me getting out of my shell; performing at an open mic is another step. I just didn't know the protocol to perform. I mean, I had the poem ready (which is in the book) and a few drinks in me, but I had to notify the host beforehand to be able to get on stage. I guess I underestimated the poetry community. By the time I got another chance to make it back, that venue had stopped having open mic that night. I lost my chance.

I learned two important things that night. One is that I love the vibe from an open mic. Everybody is supportive. Strangers encourage one another. There was no negativity. Secondly, I have never written a poem or short story on what inspired me to write. That night, there was a poet that had an amazing poem about why she writes, which inspired me. Eventually, I might make a nice story or conjure up a poem about why I put pen to pad. For now I will say this. In elementary school, I wrote because I just wanted to tell stories. Simple shit. When I got to high school, I used it as a venting tool. At times when I felt like I didn't fit in or upset about a girl, I would put it on paper. Once again, simple ABAB or AABB rhyme schemes but the content was more mature. I stopped for a bit, choosing art over writing until I made it to my third year of my career. I had been thrusted into adulthood and I wasn't coping like I should've been. Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed my time in Okinawa. I made lifelong friends, vivid memories that feel like they happened yesterday and experiences I have taken with me. But when I was alone in my room and the liquor began wearing off, reality began setting in. The struggle with my career, my weight and women (again) led me to buying a notebook. The black notebook that I have to this day. During this time, my inspiration was that pain. That anger. The trouble I was getting into. Why women weren't into me. Realizing that I had gained a gang of weight. Writing in my notebook kept the mask over my face. That mask kept my true feelings hidden and people from prying into my life.

My writing helped me gain confidence. That confidence lessened the pain. The lessening of pain made my writing turn into poems about romance. Poems about women that I dated, wanted to date or just women in passing. Even some erotic poems. More confidence. Poems about current events, creative poems and poems with complex rhyme schemes. My poems sounded so good to me, I began showing them off. Posting them on social media. Leading me to wanting to compile them and put them in a book. Which led me to where I was that night: at a open mic ready to make my debut on a stage. Because I feel my work needs to be put out to the masses. Pain. Sadness. Anger. Love. Happiness. Joy. All these emotions had a hand in what I've written about. These emotions inspire me to grab a pencil, click the keyboard or punch words into my phone. What inspires you?