things aren't always what they should be. "things" seem to have a way of getting to you. i hate things.
today i won't have time to create, which seems no exeption to a rule, rather the rule itself. no wonder my body is telling me to slow down. my ideas pour over me at night, and the next morning i have no idea what the codes on my phone means. there might be a best-seller in there, in which ever way, novel, song, painting, but i can't understand it.
daytime i rush from one have-to to another dreaming of that single(!) glass of white wine and a blank paper and pen. at night i fall into bed laughing at jay or conan not doing anything creative.
i hate things. they have a way of keeping you from your heart's desire. but then again, i'd better trust ol' shaw.
"there are two great tragedies in life. one is losing your heart's desire, the other is to gain it."