What's that? I should be studying and/or writing? What? What? I'm sorry, I think my brain is broken and I can't really understand you. I guess I'll just have to keep goofing off.

In the mean time, Non-poem! I won't explain this one because I don't have to but... this is about someone I love very much (just the way they are) or at least, my perception of them, but also, it's really about everyone, a little, I guess. Eh. Yeah.

( Non-poem. 'Jagged Princess' )

I feel very fucked in the head at the moment. Living in a near-empty house, with nothing to do but read, study, write, read, study, watch TV, write, read etc. I really want a job. I'm not missing classes because I'm freaking out about exams, but it's so strange having no need to leave my house for days and days on end. o_o

Wrote a non-poem last night:

( Smile (cut for long-ness) )

( Some me rambling )

It is useful to have something to do.

So, after finishing reading about this history and proper usage of the apostrophe (not one of my grammatical nemeses, to be honest), I wrote a poem. This one might even be classified as a real 'poem' not a 'non-poem', so here:



To all my friends, family... and Africa.



I would have your forgiveness, Love
For all my selfishness –

it so defines my every breath.

Forgiveness, Love!
they say love is selfless
but if I could only give you
my time, my tenderness, my passion-

I save them for myself, (hoarding like an aged woman with balls of wool)
In those bitter moments-
I cry for myself with all the depth of my emotional capability

But not for you, Love.
Such a waste of tears,
I could cry you a river
But what good would that do you? (do me? do me?)

I would have your forgiveness, Love,
But perhaps,

Be selfish.


--

mm yeah, ooo, and

( I never seem to update my Journal with just me ranting about life anymore, so here: )

No! I have still not got anything done that I was supposed to!

(I did tidy my room today though...)

( Non-poem, by me. )

yup. mlimilimilimilim

That became huge... So:

( Rambles about life, love, and lollipops )

OKAY! SO! The real reason why I started this post!

Another non-poem, by me:




When I think about, all the things I have to do in life, it scares me.

So I don’t think, I practice forgetfulness.

Then, at 3:27am, they run, crouch, and LEAP—

CATCH! Caught you in a trap!

Too late, too slow, too lazy, too damn stupid to see,

Should have, would have, could have, don’t mean shit when you’re staring at the finish line with no strength left,

Can’t make those final steps.

Got nothing left,

And it’s too late. Didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t.

So what’s you’re great plan now? Lost your chance. Too damn busy; too damn scared to throw yourself in, with all your passion, all of your fury.

Now it’s too late, sun is setting, stands are empty - you’re grey and wrinkled, facing a pale, sad-smiling dusk,

Where was your great adventure? Your dream? Your life?


What are you doing in the next 10 seconds?


-

Yeah, coz like, brains...

((This keeps sneaking up on me when I'm tired, then dissapearing in the morning...))

Wrote a poem. Displays my state of mental breakdown. Whoo.

See my insanity: (and watch out, no punctuation for YOU!)




Falling apart falling apart falling apart again

Spinning around spinning around spinning around again

Breaking my mind, my heart, my bones

Shattering my vision

I cannot stop this sly corruption this rot that slowly sets in

Falling apart falling apart falling apart again.



--

Mmyes, I didn't really want to finish it there, but I was tired and had a headache, and couldn't think up decent rymes so. Pleh.

I just typed this out, but It got eaten, basically, I wrote a non-poem. Here:


--


She picked up the pen, looked up at the sky, and smiled.

What gifts we are given, and never appreciate.

The sound of music moving through leaves of trees.

The feel of thick paper under drawing hands.

The sound of a loved one smiling.

The bubbling laugh of hopefulness.

The slap of small wet feet on pavement.

The squelching of mud between toes.

The knowledge that your ancestors stretch beyond the length of light-years.

The shining sight of the earth’s own galaxy, a million lights spread across the ground - your home town, wreathed in night, beckoning you after a long night-flight.

The taste of water after long thirst.

The smell of your mother’s cooking in the first year of being away from home.

Catching a whiff of dying seaweed while walking in a harbour-side town.

Watching a new generation being born, when you still thought you were the kid.

Knowing they will grow up thinking of you as Aunt, or Uncle, or Mother, or Father when you have no idea how to live up to those titles.

Touching a dead bird’s wing with sorrow and a little bit of fear.

Suddenly realising that there is sky above you, and you had forgotten to look at it for so long, but it stayed to wait for you.

Knowing that God will wait till your tantrums pass, and still watch over you in the night.

Knowing that you are not the center of the universe.

Looking at something that came from you, that you created, and knowing that there is nothing in life, that can really compare to this feeling.

Knowing that there is hope. Somewhere, indescribable, irreplaceable, undefinable, but there, forever, and nothing can change that,

ever.


--
there. nice, now I have to go cook dinner.
copyright Page Russet, 2005