I came across the scrap of an old poem to Mystie a few hours ago. Kind of a bitter thing, but the way the words roll made me decide to finish it. Easier said than done, but I think I might know why. Well, one of two reasons is probably the one: There's the fact that I'm hopelessly in love with someone who totally completes me in many ways, and with whom my life is, in a word, incredible. And it's hard to get back into the dismal headspace I was in when I decided that I had to leave Mystie for my own good. Then there's the existence of a poem that I wrote at that time, and that turned out to be the thought process I went through when the decision to leave her made itself known. By which I mean that I was feeling awful, I started to just sort of doodle with words, and by the end of about four hours I had 152 words and a grim realisation on my hands. I guess that I've pretty much said everything that needs to be said, though the little poetical scrap on my hard drive is a different angle. But it's a pre-breakup angle, which kinda makes it pointless, I guess.
Organising the farque out of my office and shelves brought a whole bunch of old poem-bits out of hiding. Some of them are a hoot and some are just awful. I'm going through them as a side-side project to see if there's anything salvageable.
||Gods save the Queen,
One last little note... - 09.21.2006
de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006
Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006
More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006
Scary stuff - 05.25.2006
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