a woman like that is not ashamed to die
I am very tired. Today was a really weird day.
My alarm clock is set to the all news station - it's often the only sustained exposure to news I get each day - and there was a lot of "What? Wait, what? No, really, WHAT THE FUCK?" as I stumbled to the bathroom this morning.
So it was kind of a surreal day at work. I am being obscure on purpose, obviously, because I want to leave this post public, but yeah, it was a weird, weird day at BEMC, 'cause my guys have been breaking their backs since last weekend, and then pfft.
I have been trying to figure out this story I'm writing, and I know where it needs to go but I don't know quite how to get there. It's making me a little crazy. Also, I kind of don't have the energy or attention span to focus on more than one or two wsip at a time, nor can I really get it flowing good at work these days (see above) which is making me sad.
Maybe things will settle down soon. Sigh.
I think I am going to watch my Iron Man dvd and veg out.
Have an old favorite:
Her Kind
I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.
I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.
I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.
~Anne Sexton
~*~
My alarm clock is set to the all news station - it's often the only sustained exposure to news I get each day - and there was a lot of "What? Wait, what? No, really, WHAT THE FUCK?" as I stumbled to the bathroom this morning.
So it was kind of a surreal day at work. I am being obscure on purpose, obviously, because I want to leave this post public, but yeah, it was a weird, weird day at BEMC, 'cause my guys have been breaking their backs since last weekend, and then pfft.
I have been trying to figure out this story I'm writing, and I know where it needs to go but I don't know quite how to get there. It's making me a little crazy. Also, I kind of don't have the energy or attention span to focus on more than one or two wsip at a time, nor can I really get it flowing good at work these days (see above) which is making me sad.
Maybe things will settle down soon. Sigh.
I think I am going to watch my Iron Man dvd and veg out.
Have an old favorite:
Her Kind
I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.
I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.
I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.
~Anne Sexton
~*~