Sleepy Think

SLEEP:

explosion of the elemental thoughts to which keep me up at night and allow me no comfort in the hot sun. A mouthful of salt and a lick of lime cannot send me reeling enough to consider what ought or not to be doing at this point. All I know is I cannot sleep and need to, so feel coerced by my subconscious into emptying the ever building stockpile of metaphor and angst I can pour out to pen and paper, or if you prefer, ink and copy. I don't even have a topic or point at this exact moment in time but I'm sure it will come to me as I write it all down and throw it on the wall to see what will stick and what will slide down in the sticky octopus-like slow motion to become the litter that is my floor. I want sleep and I want money and I want love and I want happiness and peace for all, but what I've got is a headache and a shit-load of ideas and nowhere to put it. Kinda like a virgin eager to get his freak on but not a single restroom in sight to quell his libido until the time is right. Maybe I want too much. Maybe I ask too much of myself and not just you guys. Lord knows I do ask a lot of people but always figured that if I can do it so can they, though it never works out that way. I not only set them up for absolute failure but I am setting myself up for absolute disappointment time and again. It's a twisted cycle of a merry-go-'round and I feel slung to the outer edge of the whole ordeal and positioned above a giant black whole that will birth me to some higher being who will, in turn, laugh hysterically at my failed efforts and send me back even less armed than I was to start with. It's a sad tale really. One good woman who hates herself enough to be funny and articulate and hates everyone else so purely that if ever she was to jump off the deep end of her own volition, she shall never regret or lie about the deeds she did there. Wait a minute...I don't now. Sitting in my "office pose" on what is nothing more than a king size bed with my legs folded "a la" yoga style, I find myself wondering over and over what the hell is the point of it all, of any of it at all. Don't worry your pretty little heads, this isn't a melancholy adventure into what the world will be like without my pretty face. We all know what it will be like. Lonely and a lot less funny and a whole lot less complaints being posted! But seriously, I wish I was as simple and low-key as a three year old with all the basic needs they have and none of the skill to get it myself so I have no excuse for being the lazy shit I feel today. I am so lazy today that I even wrote this early so I can not do anything else tomorrow evening when I am on trying to wreak some havoc in the realm of the internet and social network.

If yesterday walked into a store and asked the clerk for tomorrow and the clerk tells him he just ran out but I got a great special on last week, do you think he will buy it? I would at this point. Hell I would even like to take a couple of the last years too. Only my own inability to keep still combined with my never ending ability to try keeps me from accomplishing so much in a world that means so little to me now. It's morose when one gets like this, I know. It is sickening to myself but I have grown accustomed to the taste of bile and blood mixed with undigested food. Hell? Whatever! No one can really say they know the hell of another or validate it for them unless put to the challenge, and it is a cruel world that would wish that challenge on another. I have not wished it. I "have" entertained the idea of it only to let my own conscious guide me to the straits of the land of misses and mister "goody two shoes" and cast it off like water rolling down the slick sheen of a duck's ass. Off it goes until the next fleeting fart of a moment. Poof, and they're all gone. Only not so in my head I'm afraid to admit. I am losing it piece by piece and even force myself to come off as less than what I am in the hopes I won't have to keep this image up so high that I cannot talk to the ones I love or the ones I think need to hear what I have to say. I expect too much from ME and by doing this I have these expectations from YOU that neither of us will live up to. I come close. I won't lie to you. Closer than anyone I know. But I don't quite reach the brass ring they all keep talking about! So off with her head and off to bed I tarry in the hopes that this has emptied enough of the bullshit I carry long enough to allow and afford me the sleep I so desire. Goodnight and blessing to all. ~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.