Thoughts - provoking questions

Every so often, hanging my thoughtful fingers over the keyboards I think what the hell on earth for do I go for writing. No, I'm quite serious. I've got no clue what makes me possessed by and rather less what kind of bloody sick I must be leaking words off from classical books like a peanunt butter off the bread. So why?

Is it worth to line up words in a row by their strict order and respective meanings? You see, this world anyway gets well along with unlogic life. So why should I mess that up? Hell no!

This world sucks without non-ordinary eyes of writers and poets perceiving beauty even among the most fetid ditches. Words by themselves are nothing. But when they meet, they sing first poetry then other words join them in singing and they start storytelling, so I could enjoy them. I think I'm a listener. Probably a bad listener.

Hah... Get a try to melt in meanings within my mind to put my thoughts in some kind of order.