I’ve been wondering what’s next and if I ever came up with a New Year’s Resolution. Lose weight is the obvious choice, be tidier, get serious about getting rid of clothes and see what fits; at least I’ll have a lot of t shirts.
I haven’t quite taken the time to muse or catch up on journal entries. Lots of poetry is always good but I remember when I was constantly experimenting. What happened on digital keys turned out to be more “slam poetry.” Broken, off-kilter beats, and staccato for sexiness, something like that.
I want another break, and another round (not here to tell lies). The speaker’s song tattle-telling on me again. Lyrics speaking to me in surrealisms.
I wish I finished high school the public way. I think going to online school is my ten year call on a bad decision. It’s all been downhill since then. I peaked early and my body gave up and my brain electrified in epilepsy. Now I stay home and my cat is my constant.
I hope to roam and road trip and finally catch a plane one day. But at least my imagery sounds so real how I describe it every time I talk with someone about this place or that. Dreamy, I’ll give myself that.
Great personality, ugly woman, hot non-binary person, a themfriend. I keep thinking about it.
Why get in touch, when what hurts me feels so far away. I don’t have to change anything, but the days will be quieter and the mornings brighter and slept in way into the depths of the afternoon, and something will change of my will and what’s next.
Maybe I should get a puppy or just focus on my aging cat.
I’m out of the game.
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