bottle tops poppin off just within ear shot, my long neck gotz hops. so now you got me thinkin, well now you got me thinking.
what if i sang this or rang this or just untangled this. could you mix it in. just try to fit me in.
the bottle is chilled but it's already startin to warm against my palm and the condensation drips off the side of my hand so i just wipe it on my shorts. cuz you know that's just the kinda female i seem to be.
so please just play those piano keys. you know the 12-pack was on sale. so you got me thinking. but now i need you to get me feeling. i haven't been doing much feeling. just too much thinking and a little bit of doing. but what's the point of the thinking and the doing without the feeling? nothing, really. just nothing.
so here i am thinking about how i can get myself to start feeling again... and i just cant quite map it out right. maybe i should just start talking about all the stuff that i have been thinking about, but you know, that's my pride on the line right there. that's my most personal self on the line right there. and who can i talk to about it without being judged? without being told all the same fucking bullshit over and over? where in the hell is the peace and the feeling in that? just more cold ones. waiting for me in the refrigerator. and i nod my head.
so its like i think and i know what i love so i continue to do that, to do the loving to what i know and think that i love but i am doing it and not feeling it so it is rather frustrating. i love to write and i wanna write and i feel like i got all this shit inside of me, ya know, swirling around at the tips of my fingers, waiting to punch the key board or guide the pen. and i even bought myself a brand new fucking journal and i just stared at the page... and... nothing... came out.
yeah, nothing came out.
weird.
so i mean i waited and i tried and i guess i "wrote" some stuff but i mean i didnt really write it. i didnt really FEEL it. i just DID it. do the writing. didnt feel the writing. so i mean that's not actually writing, then. mostly. it's mostly not writing then.
i guess i should just wait it out, or something.
the ring of condensation on my night stand is so close to a little folded up sheet of paper that i threw there a few days ago. i wonder what is inside that little sheet of paper. and i wonder if i should move it away from the ring of condensation just incase they connect. but i mean, it will dry.
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1 comment:
ah, that's the thing...there's always all this good stuff running around in my head, but to get it out, and down on paper...hard stuff...
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