Five-minute free write
Ready like a crock in a sock in a mock cock, I can’t really say the world owes me anything. I want to just float by unscathed as the song goes on, singing to myself a mangled version of the tune and hoping other people have that same mangled version. This song is ending, triumphant and defiant, but then a new one will take its place and go weirder and all hippy like until the blues go. The blues are really here to stay in my bedroom. I think the bridge is too narrow and there aren’t enough ways to get out of here. It;s time for the cat to stop doing a roseanne barr impression. Damn it, stop leaving the fan on when you go to the bathroom. It’s 4 am and I need to eventually fall asleep. Damn damn damn. I want to just keep typing until I go to bed. I think this is going to tire me out or it will areinvighorate me and keep me up for more hours. Pity. This is the time I get to sit down and nobody is allowed to bother me that isn’t supposed to be reading into this. Doobie Brothers? Really? Come on. MY thpoughts are disjointed and numbed, not getting at the raw ideas that could touch on a truth about my way of looking at the world. How pretensious. Damn it.