blog of a sunday not far away
catefrances
Posts: 29,003
sunday shower
the earth and myself
she needed to be quenched
i needed to be clean
wrapped inside a terry robe
all white and feeling like the saint that i'm not
my feet clad in purple stripes
my hair twisted up out of the way
the house is deathly quiet
so quiet it makes a noise
the munchkins, monsters, lights of my life
are with their other parental unit
their absence is bliss
temporary bliss
got to finish sylvia plath, patti smith
ts eliot and some ezra pound
listened to van morrison and (david) ryan adams
the only thing missing was a nice drop of red
but im on the wagon and so i abstain
i hate it but i like it as well
i hate it cause i so much want to drink
i like that i don't cause it means i am beating myself
but i dont think i want to beat myself anymore
what's the point?
triumph through deprivation
i miss writing under the influence
i miss the sound as red glugs into glass
i miss the smell of the cork
i miss strolling through bottle shops looking
the pretty labels and cheap prices
even the straw chianti bottles
i miss the residue i find the next morning lying in the bottom of the glass
i wish it were me lying in the bottom of the glass
anyhoo the good thing besides my solitariness
and the lack of having to think about anything other than myself
is i got some much needed reading done
i was suppose to be studying but...
i'll get to that...maybe...perhaps...not
winging it - that's the way i function
i finished the great gatsby
a short book. an easy read.
rich people. who needs 'em.
figured out where it fits into the scheme of my philosophy class
at least i think i did.
what i came up with made sense to me
nietzsche eternal return
the lightness of being and weight of purposeful meaning
devoid of any or a compact of all
i'll have to get back to you on that
the rain softly falls, the sky turns black
the chidlings will be home soon
my idyll broken
sunday sunday
i don't hate sundays
sunday on my mind
s-u-n-d-a-y-n-i-g-h-t
harbour city
rolling rolling
rolling like a river to babylon
the earth and myself
she needed to be quenched
i needed to be clean
wrapped inside a terry robe
all white and feeling like the saint that i'm not
my feet clad in purple stripes
my hair twisted up out of the way
the house is deathly quiet
so quiet it makes a noise
the munchkins, monsters, lights of my life
are with their other parental unit
their absence is bliss
temporary bliss
got to finish sylvia plath, patti smith
ts eliot and some ezra pound
listened to van morrison and (david) ryan adams
the only thing missing was a nice drop of red
but im on the wagon and so i abstain
i hate it but i like it as well
i hate it cause i so much want to drink
i like that i don't cause it means i am beating myself
but i dont think i want to beat myself anymore
what's the point?
triumph through deprivation
i miss writing under the influence
i miss the sound as red glugs into glass
i miss the smell of the cork
i miss strolling through bottle shops looking
the pretty labels and cheap prices
even the straw chianti bottles
i miss the residue i find the next morning lying in the bottom of the glass
i wish it were me lying in the bottom of the glass
anyhoo the good thing besides my solitariness
and the lack of having to think about anything other than myself
is i got some much needed reading done
i was suppose to be studying but...
i'll get to that...maybe...perhaps...not
winging it - that's the way i function
i finished the great gatsby
a short book. an easy read.
rich people. who needs 'em.
figured out where it fits into the scheme of my philosophy class
at least i think i did.
what i came up with made sense to me
nietzsche eternal return
the lightness of being and weight of purposeful meaning
devoid of any or a compact of all
i'll have to get back to you on that
the rain softly falls, the sky turns black
the chidlings will be home soon
my idyll broken
sunday sunday
i don't hate sundays
sunday on my mind
s-u-n-d-a-y-n-i-g-h-t
harbour city
rolling rolling
rolling like a river to babylon
hear my name
take a good look
this could be the day
hold my hand
lie beside me
i just need to say
take a good look
this could be the day
hold my hand
lie beside me
i just need to say
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Comments
dreamer in my dream
we got the guns
i love you,but im..............callin out.........callin out
i like the wine pouring red glugs into your glass.
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce