Leather rocky-rolly chair,
Drawing warmth from a cold screen.
Techno, Techno, rock-n-roll,
Police, Pink Floyd, and Paula Cole,
Phil Collins, Prodigy......Barry Manilow?
The rustle of a bean bag, like leaves.
Crunch crunch.
Who could think a damn dog could snore so loud?
No words, no embrace,
Just 12-point font, dog snore, darkness and I.
With a soundtrack.
I dunno why I can't sleep.
Too many thoughts.
Must be boring all of you.
Who wants to read a big pile of words like this,
And leave learning nothing?
Because if I don't put,
A lot,
Of commas,
And capital letters,
It's an essay.
There, ya learned something.
Now go fill your head with music,
And lofty thoughts.
Life is too short to bitch about it,
There will always be another girl,
Or boy.
People have always used "fuck" and "Jesus" in the same sentance.
See? I did!
And there will always be people to bitch about it.
So grab a pen,
Or your keyboard,
Write that you fucked Jesus,
And smile.