Oh, what a mess.

September 26, 2008

I just wrote a poem that I thought was actually kind of good for me. I mean, I’m a pretty dense human being, but I felt it was a really good one.

I can’t let you read it though. I just can’t.


Because it started out as a poem about sound and after I read the finished product it sounded like something really dirty.

This is either the biggest freudian slip ever, or I should be doing something else right now.

Ugh. What a mess.


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