�

2003-02-04 - 10:16 p.m. -



stray thoughts�

there is a context
& language to touch.
one that most of us
understand
very poorly.

the wonder of skin
against skin
in a moment of passion
can bring forth
the face of God.

but�
the even the purest of miracles
can be lost
if the translation is wrong.

whole libraries
burst into flames
when your fingers
fail to touch my face.

a history
gone
all for a lack of water
the knowledge of combustion
the inability to translate properly
the word spark

poems drip from my fingertips
land like salt water on your skin
steam rises
but the surface
remains too hot
to touch.

my words
disappear
right before your eyes.
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God, it is too late to still be at work. started at 8:30 this morning, just finished about 10 minutes ago (9:30 PM) & i�m going to have to the same thing tomorrow� only working later.

this exhibit is kicking my ass.

my head is racing along at 100 miles a second, but with no clear thoughtline� just a bunch of paranoid crap that tends to surface when i�m stressed & tired. i�m physically tired & sore, mentally exhausted, & feeling like i just can�t make the gears work right. it feels like i�m trying to hold back the sea with a broom.

there is so much i would like to be doing right now & i just can�t find the time to do any of it. the times i have off i�m too tired &/or too stressed to do anything productive. spent an hour looking at a blank canvas last night & just could not bring myself to pick up the brushes. poems racing in my head, but when i finally get a chance to sit down & write they disappear like smoke through my fingers. when i sleep, i dream of falling.

i know, bitch & moan, bitch & moan. blah blah blah�

sorry, just having a very rough week & i don�t see any breaks coming for the next few weeks. just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other & hope i get somewhere. hope that there is somewhere to get to.

more tomorrow.
be well.
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Today�s Stats
Coffee Count: 7 mugs Cigarettes: 19
Candy: some M&Ms
Now Playing: none
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�If you are going to tell people the truth, be funny or they�ll kill you.�
-Billy Wilder