Listening: Portishead, A Tribute to Monk & Canatella
Reading: Rush Hour: Sin
Mondays are filled with expectations. Things to do, places to go, people to see. I feel all poetic and writerly, but oh so tired. I can't seem to hold on to the scraps of poetry my brain produces. I think I'll write more later. When the first round of pills has worked their way through. Tomorrow I think I need to go to the coffee house and ramp up on caffeine and work on my revisions. It's the 10th of October already. Time. Once it was just a frail concept, now it is running away from me, laughing.
I dare not blink
all my balance
lives in my eyes
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