PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

another day another dollar

Thursday, Mar. 23, 2006
I got into work early this morning. I have already had a cup of tea. Rick even made me a cup of tea prior to my ever stepping foot out of bed. (awwwwwwww……) It is overcast outside and it appears that it will be sure to rain today.

I wish that I could get up every day and go to work and sit down and write for a living. I wish I were doing something with all of my time that felt more creative. I feel mostly like sometimes all I am doing is spoon feeding my brain with pre-determined amounts of coagulant that is supposed to somehow make me smarter, better, more worthy of some corner office somewhere. And yet I still have no real true idea about what I want to do with my life. I never have known. I’ve always had to simply survive and work somewhere at something.

I wish that my every morning started with a cup of Chai tea, the aroma’s blending throughout my thoughts, my psyche and I really wish that somehow these moments were more financially worthy to some company that would feel foolish enough to pay me for them. I wish my goal was more than a “told you so” and less than a “I need to.”

My cup is yellow
By the keys, my fingers are fed
The light is low
And the bed’s been read

My pages are movement
The notes are musical
My soul is alive
My life still dead


8:03 a.m. ::
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