Friday, October 07, 2005

I'm still sick. And unhappy about it. However, I don't have a fever anymore which is good.

I'm exhausted. What I really want to do is curl up in bed for a few days with a book and doze off when I feel like it.

Beyond that I'm not really in the mood for anything. Whenever I don't feel good I always feel emotionally wibbly and I want to either snap at, stab or otherwise maim people. I am broody and prone to fits of anger of sorts.

So I tend to keep quiet.

And I wrote some poetry:

We are screaming.
Broken ridiculous dreamers.
Fragments of illumination-
shards of light.
Don't give us your sad story
we have enough of our own.
Broken Dreamer- Don't scream
We see you in your solitary confinements.
Don't Scream - Broken Dreamer
We will know you in your absurd decay.

I am tired of
you and your absurd dreamings.
Sleep now in silence.

Take me inside. Deep
beneath your reckless waking.
Know quiet once more.

Why can't you see me?
I stand naked in your eyes.
Don't see. Please see me.

That's it.

Haikus at the bottom. Call them the nameless drivel of a sick cranky little beasty.

Goodnight Frank

PS...Stop looking at my boobs.


Your Loving Lyricist, Anthony said...

Sorry to hear you're sick, Nudemuse. It seems there is a contagion of sorts circulating, infecting all creative souls, as several friends and acquaintances of mine are also under the weather, instead of under each other where they belong...Sigh...

P.S. Did you get my email? I have a proposition I'd like to discuss with you.

oakland heidi said...

I share your book cuddling fantasy....

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