hello foggy portland night. even though you make my shoulders feel extremely uptight, i must admit, you make my mind feel so right. i want to whiz around in your milky lamp lit sky and let you suffocate me with your dense mixture of smog and suspended in thin air ice crystals. i want to stay up all night and dance in the dew. i want you to make me wet and feel new. but alas, i lie in my bed, thinking about all the sleep i'm missing out on. lets face it, life for me is only getting better. i mean, not to sound like a fucking total ass hole, but it really is. and honestly, i have to make it that way. considering all the shit i have put myself though in the last 6 months, i can't really imagine that things should or would get any worse than they already have been. but i still want to walk in the brisk air, some 40, 50, or 60 blocks without a care. i want to do nothing all the time. i want to throw it all away. i want to stay up all night till tomorrow's day.
is this what poetry is? nah. i don't think so. this is more like self induced insomnia.
i don't know who i think i am right now. i just wish i could post all the things that i have been writing, and storing away, but i feel extremely critical of what i have to say. i started to think that maybe i should have never made this blog, at least under my own name. maybe i should have said that it was a relative of mine (a made up one) and i was so proud of the fact that this mental case could actually articulate a thought and so i wanted to share it with everyone i knew.
"oh ya, my great step aunt once removed decided that she would teach herself how to read and write... this is what she did with it. enjoy."
i want more hours in the day. i don't seem to get enough done, ever. what if we had days that were 48 hours... i might actually accomplish something.
No comments:
Post a Comment