quiet time
The hum of a computer fan does not replace the sound of crickets or the far off highway sounds of my youth but they both seem to coincide with that still of the night, peaceful feeling that occurs in the wee hours. My wee hours being a little later these days.
I don’t really have a point with this post. I seem to be having a similar dullness issue with the arrow on my life’s weather vane. I feel like I’ve retracted my feisty bits and now attempt to buffet things that come my way with a big fat/flat shield. Or is it a shell? I wish I felt more like that illustration for DSL services of the turtle with rockets strapped to his shell. I’m sick of my cocoon because it’s certainly not all that safe or satisfying. I need to figure out a way to stick my head (and my ass) out there – and at speed if possible – or I’m never going to get anything interesting done. I think accelecration is the key here.
I’ve gotta find the fuel for my aerial sortie somewhere. Luckily I have friends and family that are so ridiculously talented that I want to kick my own ass. Anyone care to map out a diagram of how to self-administer a boot to my backside?
SIDENOTE:
I missed Melo-D of the World Famous Beat Junkies tonight but I figure for the price saved on admission, I can track down a mix tape of the specific routine I enjoyed so much that he displayed live prior to a screening of the movie Scratch. Again with the spending of the moneys! Bleeeaarrrrgh.
SEE ALSO:
tysen makes me want to kill. (things. [dead.{with a hammer.}])
16 January 2003, 00:40 ::
commenting closed for this article
— sen 2003-01-18 18:55 #