Sitting

I am sleepy!

Just got back from Balls Cabaret at the Southern. It was a good night. I read this piece I wrote that was kind of weird, just different from what I usually do. I feel like I rocked it, I got positive feedback.

Anywho, I went to dinner early tonight and sat by myself for a while. I grabbed a pen and a napkin and just started writing. I didn't think I was thinking too hard but what I wrote was pretty deep. Kinda silly but it reminds me of my angsty teenagery philosophysing on what life means. Yep.

Do we see God in everything?
Do we see life in everything?
Do we see ourselves in everything?
Do we see ourselves in God?
Wax poetic on napkins
Wax, spilled poetically in my hand
Burns briefly,
Burns solid once cooled,
stuck to the back of my hand.
Wax, philosophic on my hand
Do I think of myself as permanent?
Will I wash off peel off shed off
Like cool dry wax?
I am my hands,
The Earth does not shed me like old skin
Pretty words in wax
Like seeing rainbows in gasoline
We are not God's wax museum
God on the grassy knoll with the candlestick-
Like Emma, we are clueless.

I dunno. I think it's kinda neat. I enjoy the line about gasoline rainbows, I used to think I came up with it and thought that it was really cool and I was really awesome but then I realized I heard it on an episode of The Simpsons and have been embarassed to put it in my writing. So I might rewrite this piece someday into something a touch more quality than a sitting in the dining hall by myself time filler.

Who knows,

Who knows.