The Tick

The clock is there everytime I open my eyes. Every hour passes faster than the last. 1. 2. 3. Pillow mocks body. Right. Left. Additional pillow goes between knees. Back-alligned support. Heard that somewhere. Definately comfortable. Comfort found. Back. Side. Curled up. Stretched out. Temperature? Blanket. Two blankets. No blanket. Repeat. 4. 5. Never liked sheep. Counting-liked even less. Senario time. Beach? No. Cloud. No! Floating bed. Stupid idea. Oh no, sun's comin up. Boredum isn't an issue. Surprising really. 6. 7. Waiting is uncomfortable. It's not painful-just void of any defination. Over and over. Conceptual recycling. Only downfall=no matter how I spin it, I'm waiting for something that's been there the whole time. And what I lack. Is all I need. Obnoxious alarm. Too loud. Too soon.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

All of the Golden Boxes

Image
So often we are tempted to venture down the path of least resistance.  Faced with challenges and decisions, we visualize our options.  Then in the distance, there is a shinning golden opportunity that seems too good to be true.  Little effort is needed to lift the lid off the solution box that will instantly eliminate what ales you.  Each time you reach for the golden box of pleasent, simple resolution, you realize bits of your soul that are sacrificed.  Box after box, all other options begin to lose any mild attraction to you.  Suddenly people you loved and looked up to no longer express interest in you.  Some cease to see you anymore at all.  Resentment is yet another price to pay as you solve the pain of your loss with complete disacknowledgement.  Why fight for someone to see you? To notice you again? To like you?  That's not what you want from the people you hold dear. Excuse after excuse. Mistake after mistake.  There is only one person to blaim. Luckily, the boxes will never
Read more

Old Spices

Image
Hello, bloggers, look at your notes, and now back to your screen. Now back at your notes, and now back to your screen. Luckily, your notes aren't the screen, but if you stop writing notes like a sally and switch to the keyboard, your notes could be on your screen. Look down, back up, where are you? You're on a dinosaur, with a macbook that smells like an airplane, what's in your hand, back at the screen! I have a dino egg with two tickets to that convention you hate. Look at it again, the tickets are now poop. Anything is possible when your screen smells like dinos and not poop. I'm on a donkey.
Read more