Thank you to my new followers. Not much will change in 2020, except for the few good individuals who want to. And so I’ll be 33 on Wednesday; never cared for birthdays, but this year I must recognize the gifts I write to. Enjoy the poem, this is me.
Photography By Supreme Optics Photography
Saturday, December 14, 2019*
Grassroots for change; no mentor.
Just write it.
Nothing else to unfold but a world to readers.
Dust the fear.
Walk the line as divine who calls.
Trust the thought.
Look within for you awaken—dream on and keep on.
You get nowhere.
There is one writer, many typers, and infinite drivers.
We are no one.
Extensions of past stuff to play into reactions.
Dwell elsewhere and retrieve unpleasantly.
Get out now.
Configure an outer thought until transcendence.
You know nothing.
A world of words to perfect, lucky to connect, and fortunate under success.
#AmWriting to a reject.
The writer reads to protect.
I am Me.
You, a reader, my birthday present.
A writer who’s free.
Born and raised in Portland, Oregon, Budd writes to encourage readers to explore the depths of their inner ocean, an unexplored self, because it's fun once you get through the emotional part... “The world around us is our vehicle, what you'll read is how I digest it.” -Budd