Shuffle

I, as many other members of the general population, am often plugged into my music via my headphones. More and more I see people of all ages with earbuds or headphones stuck in or on their nogin. Studying, exercising, zoning out, and driving (this is dangerous and illegal folks) are a few things I see members of the public doing whilst their ears are plugged in.

Now when I'm jammin' (cuz that's what I do when my headphones are in) I believe there is no other way to do so than with the playlist on shuffle. I've yelled at friends for disrupting my shuffle with their unknowledgeable, selective-ness.

Last night I put the good ole' 'pod on shuffle and did something a little different for this post. (I also found a brand new reason to love shuffle.)

With clay on my headphones
I listen to Tropicana beats
attempting to cypher
the previous eve's delusions.
Sitting up
scrawling on a notepad;
the beginning lessons of Insomnia 411
are proving to be taxing.
Life is a lot like The Ocean
in the way that it often crashes about, 
jolting calm into confusion.
As Soon As I Wake Up,
be it literally or figuratively,
will I only face greater obstacles?
Frustration is What I Got.
It's noticeable in the scribbles
clawing through something 
simple as My Notes.

To explain a bit, there are six song titles in this little ditty. I am rather proud of this accomplishment. Especially since it encompasses the days that have recently passed quite well. (Mental high five for Tessa.) If you can tell me the artists of ALL the songs hidden in this (it's easy to pick the titles out...they're capitalized) then I'll buy ya a cookie next time I see ya.

Untitled

Sleep awaits in some far off land.
He resides in a quaint, 
simple neighborhood.

A gang, Insomnia,
has been causing unrest through the community.

It's best to travel
wrapped tightly in another's arms
when going to visit sleep.

Approaching the door,
you reach forward and knock, knock, knock.
With anticipation you wait for an answer.

None is received.
Pressing your ear against the hardwood door
you listen for footsteps, 
wishing for the sound of sleeps approach.

Feeling odd and out of place
you turn and look behind you.
With this, you realize 
the person whose grasp kept you safe
is gone.

Sleep will not be answering his door this eve.

Following Up

Work got a little slow last night, and I had a lot on my mind towards the end of the day. I found me some receipt paper (its quite easy to come by at Target) and relieved some of the pressure in my head.

Listening in disbelief 
as discussion of the coming fall
engulfs me.
I decide, it cannot be true.
As I glance out the window,
driving down the oil road,
the new tassel's atop the corn
tell no lies.


This summarizes my frustration with the coming changes rather well for the time being. So I thought I would follow the last post with it. Plus I had about ten minutes to kill before running off to work. Seeing as how I only need a couple views to reach 1,000 I had to post something. Thanks for reading!

In My Notepad

Sitting in the, attempting to wake up for the day, I began flipping through my little yellow notepad. This notepad is one of the small things that helps me to remain sane. Well, sometimes. When I need to remember something, organize my thoughts, or just plain ole' write shit down - I write it on one of my many little notepads. This one is a baby yellow legal pad. As I went through my brain vomit I found a page that I'm not sure when it was transcribed. I have been struggling to find a blog subject for a few days, so this worked out perfectly.

The future holds
so many unknowns.
They mingle with one another.
Some tied together.
Others sit alone,
the wall flowers.
Entering the room some snicker
while others appear as lost as I.
Do I approach the unknown 
and attempt to make something
of anything?
Or should I take my habitual place 
along the wall 
and watch the unknown,
remaining as such,
pass me by?

Now, I'm no poet. It's just some of the nicer brain vomit I have. It reflects the struggles in my mind more often than not and is generally written after midnight or way too early in the morning. I don't usually publicly share these writings, but it seems to be working out for this blog occasionally.

Almost 1,000 views! High five!

A Post of Poetry

Lately I've been having odd dreams. Now when I say odd dreams, I mean that everything  about these dreams strikes me as odd or out of the ordinary. See, I hardly ever remember dreams. I often wonder if I dream at all, that's how little of my dreams I recall. Recently I've been remembering them more often than I have for a long while. I don't remember the dreams in their entirety, just slivers of them. Things that stick in my brain for some reason or another. The subject of these dreams is not really significant, nor is it consistent. They've all been completely different, with no correlation as far as I can see. The point is these dreams prompted me to write a little poetry. Enjoy

Images of recent dreams flash through the mind.
Impossible becomes easy
until one's eyes open in anticipation of the day.
Within seconds only frames and pieces can be recalled.
Apprehension awaits each evening as
you wonder if the REM cycle
will bring your innermost desires to life.
______________________________________

Attempting to deliberately return to a specific dream
proves fruitless.
The only world that makes what you want attainable
refuses to permit a return to its corridors.
It's like falling for a face you'll never see again,
the thought makes you smile.
That desire to return, however,
will drive you mad.