On top of a previous few days mess, before I went to work yesterday morning, I emptied my sock drawer onto the floor, left my bed unmade, dumped out my backpack to find my keys, tags, sunglasses, wallet, chapstick, etc., tried on a million different outfits, left a million outfits on the back of my chair/the floor, tried on shoes, took off shoes, chucked shoes into the closet, pulled down albums off the shelf, chose 3 to take with me, left the others on the floor, threw on makeup, left it out on my desk/floor/dresser/stereo/wherever, and more. Needless to say, my room was a disaster area by the time I took off.
WELL- last night when I came home from work my room was clean.. bed made, CD's stacked, socks in my drawer, clothes folded, pictures organized, shoes paired, organized, and lined up neatly on the floor of my closet, lid on my deodorant, makeup closed and in a bag, bags and scarfs hung up on my door, and more.
Really, more! My laptop was open on my desk with a note that said "Just push play -.."
A month ago I came to the realization that I am an adult and that it's okay for adults to get rid of boxes of notes from Jr. high, along with collections of stickers, ugly things from the DI, posters, Jones bottles, assignments, foreign objects, etc. This led me to destroy clean my room and get rid of loads and loads of CRAP. While doing this I found my poetry book from Ms. Beans creative writing class. (LOVE THAT WOMAN/CLASS/ECT.)
The idea was to follow the format of already existing works but use our own creativity for the verses. Mostly my collection of poetry is just dramatic and embarrassing because I was emo-- yuck-- ha. But NEWAYS, joys:
My Shirt
So striped is my shirt, Reminds me of a sailor or painter. It's baggy, all comfortable like. The blue is a dark blue, hard to Match with. And the white Is bright except for the Few spots on it. Of their origin I know not. This shirt came from a community of clothes Somewhere, maybe a closet or a box.
Dear God
Please God, don't rope me into this common routine of life
Where everything is poetry about trees and lost souls Almost real, but not quite Big words.
I want to live original, yet simple.
My life as a person, not as a complicated system of bright colors and exploding ideas.
But don't let me conform as much as to say
I don't believe, because I do.
I want to experience... Enjoy... Feel... Like an anonymous wanderer
