Again another night turns into morning as I watch the clock in agony, wishing I could sleep.
No demons this time...I can't blame my lack of sleep on my nightmares.
I took a nap today.
I try not to take naps, usually; they inevitably end with me up at 5 am perky as hell with only torrid thoughts as my companions...but I couldn't help but take a nap today. I tripped down the stairs and kissed the cement floor with my forehead. I'm not taking any meds right now, prescription or no, so sleep is my cure-all. Looking back, deciding to take a nap after I bludgeoned my head with the floor, possibly rendering me slightly concussed was not the brightest of ideas I have had, but I was in pain and needed dreams to kiss me better.
So now, Lucy is suffering from insomnia and needing to be loved...*le sigh*
...I seem to come up with the strangest things to think about in the wee hours of the morning.
Right now I am wondering what colors taste like..really taste like, not just because of the food we associate the color with, like purple tasting like grapes, etc...
This is what I have so far...I think light blue would taste cool and clean, something sweet and refreshing.
Brown...medium brown, I think, should taste like comfort food.
Red has to be hot, but not heavy, except the dark reds...
*reads what I just wrote*
God, am I a dork..the fact that my bedroom is not padded and my jackets are not white, one-sleeved contraptions with latches and buckles is sole proof that the world is safe for no one...
...Some lyrics I have been working on tonight. (can you tell I've been reading too much Aldous Huxley lately by these or what?)
Paint a circle blank where the smiley face should be
Take some pills and you won't fall down
It's peculiar to like your own company.
Be quiet, consume, don't vote. Don't frown
Nice girls are made of marble.
Cold. Perfect. Shiny. Polisheable.
(But I'm made of rags and red string.)
Chisel that smile into your pretty painted lips
Drill some dimples into those cheeks
Try not to fall or you'll shatter your hip
When the ducts are made of stone and steel,
tears
can't
leak
I think if I finish the short story I am writing tonight and post tomorrow.
~Lucy
No demons this time...I can't blame my lack of sleep on my nightmares.
I took a nap today.
I try not to take naps, usually; they inevitably end with me up at 5 am perky as hell with only torrid thoughts as my companions...but I couldn't help but take a nap today. I tripped down the stairs and kissed the cement floor with my forehead. I'm not taking any meds right now, prescription or no, so sleep is my cure-all. Looking back, deciding to take a nap after I bludgeoned my head with the floor, possibly rendering me slightly concussed was not the brightest of ideas I have had, but I was in pain and needed dreams to kiss me better.
So now, Lucy is suffering from insomnia and needing to be loved...*le sigh*
...I seem to come up with the strangest things to think about in the wee hours of the morning.
Right now I am wondering what colors taste like..really taste like, not just because of the food we associate the color with, like purple tasting like grapes, etc...
This is what I have so far...I think light blue would taste cool and clean, something sweet and refreshing.
Brown...medium brown, I think, should taste like comfort food.
Red has to be hot, but not heavy, except the dark reds...
*reads what I just wrote*
God, am I a dork..the fact that my bedroom is not padded and my jackets are not white, one-sleeved contraptions with latches and buckles is sole proof that the world is safe for no one...
...Some lyrics I have been working on tonight. (can you tell I've been reading too much Aldous Huxley lately by these or what?)
Paint a circle blank where the smiley face should be
Take some pills and you won't fall down
It's peculiar to like your own company.
Be quiet, consume, don't vote. Don't frown
Nice girls are made of marble.
Cold. Perfect. Shiny. Polisheable.
(But I'm made of rags and red string.)
Chisel that smile into your pretty painted lips
Drill some dimples into those cheeks
Try not to fall or you'll shatter your hip
When the ducts are made of stone and steel,
tears
can't
leak
I think if I finish the short story I am writing tonight and post tomorrow.
~Lucy
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
I happen to like the dimples drilled into my cheeks.
I gave a blue cigarette to a drunk friend and he was very excited to discover that it tasted like blue.
I'm fond of posting this picture and saying that tancer tastes green:
...anyway those are my thoughts on the subject.