michaeljr915 (michaeljr915) wrote,
michaeljr915
michaeljr915

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Le Sunday Sighs

Well, Sunday started out surprisingly good.
Didn't fall asleep in church. We picked up bagels from Manhattan. er, Manhattan Bagels, that is.

Did a little room rearranging, but... if I do anything in this room, I'd rather the complete and utter endless crap I have go either into the trash, or into a box (and then into a moving van.)

I had something I wanted to do today, but darned if I could remember it.

For the last few days, I've also had this overwhelming urge to create, but nothing's coming out :( No writing, no drawing, not even a peep on the NWN module I'm goofing off with. That last poem from Friday is about the only thing.

A friend called me up last night while I was on EQ and we chatted for a bit. She mentioned how she's not able to write without some sort of white-noise-like distraction... And I realized, I seem to have the same 'requirement'. I used to do my best work when working (either at Officemax or MicroWarehouse (now CDW) or even in school. There were people around me, movement, sound, scent. It helped get the creative juices flowing.

I'd go to the Mall, but I can't just sit there... Not my kind of thing. Too damned cold to sit outside and work, and I'm sure not going to sit in the living room or dining room to do it.

The last thing I wrote prior to *sigh* was kind of ... off color, if funny:
I called it My Juices Flow...


I wrap about your hardened peak
My juices they do coat you
After all that we've been through
I can't believe I chose you.

Back and forth, my cavern moves
I feel you deep inside
I'm glad that you're my partner
On this sweet duo ride.

I ride you til I'm dry
And I feel you draw out
Your hardness still peaked,
What will you do now?

I'm cast aside, you wash your tip
My juices from you no longer drip.
My husk is tossed, for the trash gunned,
as you, the juicer, add to the orange juice fund.



So like yeah, I'm weird.
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