What did I do wrong that I am not waking up at 3am to furiously write about flowers, bunnies and glittery magical things that make you want to run through the streets tossing confetti
Why am I unable to pour my first coffee and pound on my keys to talk about heinous faces dripping in tar and toxic hearts that make you question if I am angrily swinging an axe over my head as I write
My podium of love, rage, announcing, denouncing, politics and praise where have you gone?
Where are you saucy, spicy, sexy, rumbling, reconciling and rolling waves of words?
Have I mediated too much? Is it because I ate a vegetable? Maybe too much Math?
Perhaps it was the grocery shopping or vacuuming I did
I knew too much domesticity was not good for the soul
Why did I shower so much this week, I probably washed all my dysfunctional interest away
I knew being fresh and clean was bad idea
Oh my, what if my therapy is actually working
Please no, not normal
Have I fallen in love with a sane person?
Mature love, say it isn’t so
It is all so perfectly right it feels so perfectlky wrong
All of these seemingly typical thoughts, it is hard to breathe with overly open airways
What did I ever do to deserve this?
The thought of it all is just too much to handle
Writers’ depression I do surmise
Life is far too normal right now
I just can’t stand it
Stupid normal you are totally ruining me
Love, Alisa
amazing like always
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Thanks lol. I truly have nothing to write about right now. My brain has gone flat:)
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It will come soon enough. it always does for me.
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Don’t worry! Normal doesn’t last long. 😝
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It is indeed how we roll;)…and of course I am not in love with a normal person *phft*. My normal is not “the” normal. Which bodes the question, then what is normal?
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Normal is what we enduringly attempt to keep at bay? 😉
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But to be in love at least with SOMEONE it seems you are on to something good so I would say, normal, mad, bonkers, crazy, nutter, sane, sublime, doesn’t matter so long as you FEEL IT as so few remember really what it means to be in love for real
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Yes:)
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I think more people SAY IT AND WALK THE WALK but it’s not real and it’s not meant and it’s fickle and false. Like any good thing it must be necessarily rare but not like steak rare, it doesn’t have to bleed
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I think sometimes the most loving do not find love because they are quiet, shy. They appreciate it for what it is supposed to be, rare. Cautious sorts.
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I think this could be an honorary backside of night poem
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❤
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