Naked As We Came

Hello.

I am too impatient, I think. It’s a bad habit… and whenever I try to relax, and not get impatient, I get impatient about not being impatient. Vicious cycle…

Although, lately, things have been pretty great.  I’ve almost escaped from the clutches of school– at least, till next semester.  I am under the impression that I should register for classes, but I don’t like the idea of “tying” myself down… it seems too far away to figure it out; too expansive and confusing for my small mind.  Of course, I’m also distressed at the fact I don’t seem to be doing anything with my life.  I’m just exsisting, and once school is out, all I will really be doing is work work work.  I like having plans, I really do.  They lay my thoughts to rest.  I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to sort it all out… maybe I should try some pro and con lists, or something of the kind…


Something I have pretty much always wanted to do, almost ever since I was a little girl, is be in some sort of band/musician type group.  I don’t like admitting that I have such trivial desires, but there it is.  However, I have to let you aware of this fact so I can let you in on a lovely reality; a friend of mine invited me to sing with him.  Hooray.  Now I guess I probably should’ve stuck it out with piano when I was little.  Ah well.  But anyway!  I completely wasn’t expecting, or even trying to be in a band with this guy. It just happened.  It was just dropped in my lap.


ALSO. My sister…. she’s amazing.  She’s graduating this Saturday.  Pretty dang crazy…  I have a lot more to say on this matter, and others, but I’m out of time… I must away to my class.  So perhaps I’ll write more later, because I feel that these are just small windows into what I really think, and I’d like to speak of these things at length… we shall see what I have time for…

Love,
O




P.S.
A Sonnet

I’ve decided not to be a poet;
there are too many of them
spouting their sonnets,
unfurling their words from their hems:
illustrious stanzas that reek of rhyme,
and absolutely atrocious, aggravating alliterations.
One can hardly stand a poet’s crooning crimes!
Here is a race I prefer to shun,
rather than show kindness,
when I pass them in the street,
along with the hobos, the buskers, the penniless,
all in want of some benevolent soul to buy ‘em some eats.
I’d rather only look the part,
and sit, brooding over my coffee in the dark.

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2 Responses to “Naked As We Came”

  1. sapphire911 Says:

    i love the sonnet…

  2. august_23 Says:

    I really like this poem.

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