ysobel: (Default)
I half wake; dozing, I realize
That the dream was a coherent and
Entertaining story.
I tell it to myself, over and
Over so I will remember when I fully
Wake.

I do not.

Read more... )
ysobel: (Default)
*sung-mumbled to an unnamed (and probably of problematic origin) perky children's song that's in my head but can't place*

Ohhhhhh... I feel like crap and wanna cry,
Or poke somebody in the eye,
Or eat a whole darn apple pie...
Gosh, I love my prednisone!


...and song number two...

Oh prednisone, oh prednisone,
How fucked-up are your side-effects!
You make my mood go here and there
And make me sweat, like, everywhere
Oh prednisone, oh prednisone,
How fucked-up are your side-effects!

Oh prednisone, oh prednisone,
I really dislike taking you
The anti-inflammation's great
But all the rest is cause for hate
Oh prednisone, oh prednisone,
I really dislike taking you

Oh prednisone, oh prednisone,
I can't wait til I'm done with this
You taste like shit, and what's more wrong
You made me filk this stupid song
Oh prednisone, oh prednisone,
I can't wait til I'm done with this
ysobel: (fall)
Sometimes I wonder if ever the trees
Find themselves burdened with thoughts such as these:

"I am old, I am crooked and gnarled and squat
And all that I wish I could be, I am not.

Not tall like the redwoods that reach towards the sky
Nor bendy like aspen that shimmer and sigh.

My bark is uneven, not glossy and sleek;
My branches, when wind-stirred, don't whisper but creak.

My leaves have not come yet, my branches are bare,
Though warm is the weather and spring in the air.

The birds do not choose me, for perch or for nests;
The squirrels run elsewhere, as other trees' guests

I am old, I am ugly, I fail as tree
And yet there is not a thing else I could be."

...Do trees ever ponder on what could have been
Or what they should do, or how they can "win"?

Or do they just live and then die in due course,
Unfettered by fear or by guilt or remorse,

With roots to keep grounded, connected with earth,
That keep them from doubting about their own worth,

And leaves to leap skyward, aloft in the breeze,
To drink in the sun’s warmth and keep them at ease;

And never to fear about unused potential,
But simply to concentrate on the essentials

Of dreaming in winter, re-waking in spring,
Without undue worries of what time will bring.

Do trees ever worry? If not, then my plea
Is that someday I may be reborn as a tree.
ysobel: (Default)
My mind is circling itself
like a dog chasing its tail
and biting what it catches

and I know enough to know
that biting myself causes pain

but knowing is not enough

and so metaphorical jaws clamp down
and in hurting I bite harder
against that which attacks me

which is myself, and so
the cycle continues endlessly

and I am trapped inside

Profile

ysobel: (Default)
masquerading as a man with a reason

May 2017

S M T W T F S
 123456
7 8910 11 1213
1415161718 19 20
212223 24 252627
28293031   

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated May. 30th, 2017 07:15 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios