I Lied

The worst part of working a swing shift is not the strange people that come in around 11:30 or so. It isn't the groups of drunken barely over teenagers stumbling in to find munchies so they can return to their alcoholic escapades. I can honestly say the it's not random truck drivers who try to slip their phone numbers, hastily written on a napkin, into my hand... Okay I lied.
The answer is all of the above.
And the fact that it's three AM and I'm still wide awake.

Proud

I found this link while stumbling. http://juliannakunstler.com/art1.html
I found a little tutorial on this site, and I have spent the last few hours drawing these silly squiggly lines, and to be frank, my fingers hurt.

I had forgotten about the scratching sound of graphite on a sketch pad. I missed the feeling of filling a blank page with grey color. I think more than anything I miss the feeling of accomplishment when I finish a drawing and step back, proud that I created something beautiful.

Discuss

"Fleshy jello mold."
Discuss among yourselves.


Yeah I know its kinda cheating, but I'm curious what people think of.
So post a comment with the first thing that comes to mind

Screwed

"The interdimensional zombies just broke through the force field. They're-- ARGHH BLARGH!...."
That was the last thing I heard before the connection to the bridge was disconnected.
I looked around, searching for anything that I could use as a weapon without much success.
"I'm screwed."

Ask of You

I'm listening to my husband play his ukulele; a present for his birthday last year. He's strumming a song I asked him to learn, and though he doesn't actually like the tune, he learned it anyway. For me. It's silly but to me, that's love. Doing something you don't want/like to do because the person you loved asked it of you.

Oldies

I keep hearing old songs from forever ago.
I can't seem to think of anything new.
Old lyrics, and ancient tunes rolling around in my brain.
I can't believe they call those songs the "oldies" now...

Learned

Fighting my great master was something I never thought I would have to do. Our swords sang to each other, as we danced a deadly waltz, While we stepped to the beat of an unheard melody time stood still as if waiting to see who would stand victorious. I knew it wouldn't be me. I simply hadn't trained long enough; hard enough to beat him.
Blow after blow screamed pain down my arms and chest as my master struck me repeatedly. One quick hit to my stomach with the flat of his blade, and I was on my back looking up at the point of his sword.
"Now." My master held a hand out to me, and helped me to my feet. "Go clean yourself up, and remember what you learned."

Redux

Blessed is the dawn you were pressed into this earth.
Blithe sunlight shines on your first day of existence.
Joyous wishes beloved Anthony.
Cheerful tidings on the anniversary of your birth.

Yoda

I've used all the words I have.
Said all I can say.
The harder I try to speak;
the more the words stick in my throat.
Trying is not doing;
Yoda was right.

Purple

I felt a heaviness on my chest, and opened my eyes to see a pair of violet eyes staring back at me. I felt my heart skip a beat, and I stared back at the indigo skinned creature. It squatted on my chest, spindly arms resting on its knees.

"What do you want." I whispered. 

It cocked it's head to the left, continuing to study me from inches away.

I repeated my question. 

It remained silent.

"Get off me."

It slowly shook its head at me.

"Why not?"

It cocked its head to the right, and raised an eyebrow at me.

Because I have something to show you.

My eyes widened. "Something to show me? What?"

It carefully lifted one arm, and laid its middle finger in the center of my forehead.

Behold your future. The universe is calling you, and you ignore it. No longer can you deny your destiny. You must embrace your fate with open arms or we will perish.

I sat up gasping. Had that been a dream? A vision? Shaking my head, I got up, and headed to the bathroom to spash some water on my face. I flick on the light, and looked at my face in the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. In my reflection I saw a purple mark on my forehead.

Shining Eyes

The sound of your voice moves me.
My heart beats to the rhythm of yours.
We breathe in sync.

It's all in my mind.
I'm trying too hard to hold you close.
I need my space.
You need yours.

Time is my enemy, but then so are you.
Patience isn't the virtue I thought it would be.

I miss your shining eyes.
I miss mine.

Come at me Bro

I'd been listening to the same song for hours now. I heard it on the radio, and though I really enjoyed it, I've continued to enjoy it repeatedly since then. Somehow the song spoke to me, and though my husband glared at me with eyes that could kill a buffalo at three hundred yards, I stared him down as I click the play button once more. Come at me Bro.

Alphabet Games

Look there's an "A" in the water.
What happened to the rest of the alphabet?
I think they drowned.
Nah. The "B" must have been eaten by the "C".

I think "I" have to "P".
That's further down the alphabet...
It was all that "T".
"Y" "R" "U" laughing?
Because all these "M" "N" M s gave me a sugar high.
"W" "E" E E E E E E!
I can't believe this all started because we saw some sticks poking out of the river......

Hell Yeah

I tried to lift my arm, and pain shot up my back.  I tried to get off the bed with a similar result.
Damn. I think I have a rib out. How the hell did I do this?
I laid back down, sighing at my plight.
Damn it, I've got stuff to do today. I went through the list in my head.
Wash laundry.
Pick up the house.
Dry laundry.
Do the dishes.
Fold laundry.
Oh yeah, and put away laundry.
I tried once more to sit up, and felt like I had a knife shove roughly between my ribs.
Well I guess I'm stuck in bed today... wait a second. I smiled slyly. I have a legitimate physical excuse to stay in bed, and do nothing all day. Hell yeah.

True Inspiration

What should I write about?
Love?
Envy?
Sex?
Fear?
Hatred?
Anger?
It shouldn't be this hard.
All day I think of things to say.
All day I write the perfect words in my head, only to forget them moments later.
I can write a sonnet without really trying, and not remember it by the time I get back to paper.
I've written beautiful ballads that never reached a mouth to sing them.
I've created entire worlds, and been unable to to remember the slightest detail when it mattered.
True inspiration seems to come when I need it least.

No Ground

I take a deep breath and savory the sweet, spicy vapor of my tea. It's been too long since I got to enjoy a fresh cup of the leafy brewed goodness. 

Coffee holds no ground against you. There is no soda that can compare. 

I sit on the couch and take another deep breath. Lifting the cup to my lips, I take that first sip, and smile.