i have the syllables, could neatly say

amateur, wants to make pins of phrases

i tuck my barbs neatly away

I am caught in the undertow of study – everything in my life at this moment demands my complete attention lest any one thing slip. No idle hours spent crafting the cheeky novel or digging up family skeletons.  Every minute is spent attending to the here, the immediate and the now at the expense of everything else (and probably my future in some sense).  I am feeling the years accelerate and I am terrified that I lost my balance so easily.  I miss fitness and freedom and time.  But i’ll get there.  I have made some commitments and I will feel infinitely better when they are acheived to completion.  My odyssey has turned – I have escaped the embrace of the siren and am heading home – I reinforce my boat with anything I have to face Poseidon head on in the coming years, whenever that may be.  AT LEAST I have reached some fluidity with my life, the rhythm is natural, so much that I am not conscious anymore of every agonising minute.  I am living now, in present time completely.  Sod the rest for the moment, because it has only given me the perspective I needed to do exactly what I am doing right now.

so there are two voices then. the discord twangs and i dig my heels in as i try to sing accompaniment. but some acts are solo, and each project as i go becomes less delightful when is not as you imagined. no partner, no. the insect on the wing a mere annoyance, the input buzzing ruffling feathers. i bury deep and sleep, the fluffing shaking, juttering me. i hope no windy turbulence unseats me.

how different than i see myself. the roots i offer grow the motions up; can give a good thing life. through earth more water travels than to throw the puddles up, and only get wet. careful checks can help from unplanned hassles to beget. discerning so, carefully so, patient yet. each plodded trod deliberate, each good intention set.

you’ve got to choose there isn’t time
to ponder on what’s yours and mine
i have the truth somewhere outside
but i’m too tired to run

you’re far too sure, you must be wrong
you don’t struggle all along
it’s just shell if it is strong
and i won’t knock to see inside

your sweet little songs won’t wet my appetite
your sweet little voice is too pure to be right
your soft little hands are just too clean
your big green eyes ain’t seen what i’ve seen
if you understood then you’d agree
there simply isn’t hope for me

just turn me upside down to smile
or do one of your pretty handstands
you can be the one to make the plans
you can be the one to make the plans

after hearing a certain new track once that shall remain nameless (i don’t want to publicise something i hate), dismissing it and never hearing it again, i just spent what felt like two hours dreaming of a fictional gossip-chick-nausea show that i would never even watch on a sick day, with this god-awful track as the backing. on loop.

i feel violated.

i need more
i need more
walk out to the alley and shut the door

so large and naive
floating kind of me
big dreams, average feet
making you angry
to fly your achy soles
must leave the ground
gravel hurts my toes and i’d rather float
but what do you know
you’re the oceanless boat
tying me at the line
whatever you want
every time

let’s find you the tide
please, let’s find you the tide
i don’t have enough strength to pull you
left inside
gravel hurts my toes and i’d rather float
but what do you know
you’re buried in sand
praying for snow

i’m rendered speechless by the whole affair