Blu Blue Blu

I want to spill my guts- go into great detail about everything.
what i feel i've lost
what i feel i never had
the things i want
the things that i'll probably get
how the things aren't tangible
how they're more like ideas
i want to read tolstoy
i want to read sartre
i want to read kinsella
i want to read wodehouse
want to tell the world just how sucky the day was
how it had no right to be so
how i planned on this post being utterly meaningless
how that is nearly always my intention on a 'public' forum (rolls eyes)
i want to put into words, several hours
but that, is not gonna happen

feel low, sad and have no right to be any of that.
i don't like the sand and how deep my head is buried in it.
i want to not forget stuff,
not forget my notes
but i want to let go too
let go of all that doesn't replay well in my brain.

i think its time for winter to go.
i want to chuck the baggage.
and i don't care what colour it is.

ps- haw, said too much. *chuckles at the absurdity*

pps- i want to go back to painting
i miss how great it felt, even that aching back
it fooled one into believing that something worthy was being done.

Tch. how fancy. i miss the canvas and i miss the paint. bas.

(i am So gonna go read Kinsella now, one wish fulfilled) :)