The semester is kicking my butt just a little harder than I want it to right now.
So I'm going to write you a little poem.
It goes like this:
Busy busy busy
Busy busy busy busy busy
After a while you start thinking that "busy" is misspelled. Then you start forgetting that it's a word in the first place. Then the letters of which it's composed aren't recognizable any more. They are strange symbols that can't possibly be interpreted. It's all just shapes anyway.
I'm not going to list out everything that I need to do in the next few weeks because I'm keeping myself in the dark...for good reason. If I start thinking about it I might go just a little insane.
Because my lovely poem about busy-ness can't possibly qualify as "creation" of the day, I will share with you a line from a song I've decided I'm writing.
Here is the complete and full extent of everything I know about this song:
1. I only know one line.
2. For some reason song-related things seem to come to me while I'm brushing my teeth.
3. Maybe the code name for this song should be TEETH-BRUSHING SONG.
4. The line goes like this: "Leave my life on the cutting room floor."
5. I know the melody for this line, but I'm too lazy to record it yet. You'll have to be satisfied with the fact that I first thought of it last Tuesday morning, and haven't forgotten yet.
6. I'm afraid of writing a song because while lots of words/melodies/instrumental tracks float in and out of my head, all the time, most of them are probably from existing songs. This is to say, I'm afraid of poaching material without even knowing it.
7. But I carry on regardless.
8. I still don't know what the song is about, but now I've started considering everything that rhymes with floor: door, more, for, four, lore, gore, sore, nor, bore, boor, boar...