Meaning Is Overrated

Leave me out on the rain. I prefer it. If you are not capable of passion, you are not able to understand me or the world. Still can't get the freedom out of my head. Still have to many objectives and influence around to get my writing out on a paper. Still a feeling is too overwhelming to be where I want to be. And that is in a free zone of writing. No catches, no pretend, no conspicuous minds. Just me and my keyboard. Allowing to set my own rules and also honor the rules that exist. Let me out. Leave me out. My creativity is suffering. There for I am suffering. It's nothing better then selected control. Control suffering. I don't know how I even do it. I came a long way. From some one who's purpose was lost, but then suddenly found. Or the purpose was never challenged and it was just unmeaningful living. It happens. To much for my book. But that what it's going to be about. Unmeaningful living. Not seeking beauty but making one up. To better the path, to put solid rock on Wood. The meaning will be hidden in it's meaningfulness writing and living. Or the meaning could be made up? That is an option. To made it up, just too put a even bigger twist on my suffering. Could it be that the making sense part is made up and lost? I am loosing my self right now. Where was I?A, out in rain, alone. Where meaning is probably overrated. How to describe rain, where no one like's it but you? Like this. My rain falls with passion.

Michael