XO
So before I went to sleep last night I found myself writing
Sometimes I want to write but can't find any words at all to describe my mood. Good, bad, or other are contrite phrases that try to put emotion in a box which is infinitely too small for it. Rather than write, all I can hope to do is lie abed while this feeling possesses me, and hope that on the morrow I will once again be possessed by this mood, emotion, theory, idea, thing that I don't think I will ever be able to truly describe, it is neither good nor bad, but essence.
I don't really remember writing it, and I have to ask myself what sort of crack I was on.
Odd, odd, odd.
Sometimes I want to write but can't find any words at all to describe my mood. Good, bad, or other are contrite phrases that try to put emotion in a box which is infinitely too small for it. Rather than write, all I can hope to do is lie abed while this feeling possesses me, and hope that on the morrow I will once again be possessed by this mood, emotion, theory, idea, thing that I don't think I will ever be able to truly describe, it is neither good nor bad, but essence.
I don't really remember writing it, and I have to ask myself what sort of crack I was on.
Odd, odd, odd.