EDIM 19 - Braindead Improv
Interesting how some of the greatest blessings are the simplest things. Good health for one. Interesting how some of the simplest things aren't seen as blessings until you don't have them.
Mmm. Giving thanks is underrated. Let me think here: I'm sitting on a steady chair, with the light on, food in a refrigerator across the room, typing on an expensive electronic thing... and I think I'm most thankful right now for these pants I'm wearing, they really fit well. That and knowing pretty much nobody reads these posts.... my slightly insane posts due to sicky-yuckness and fuzzy brain-fever makes for uninspired reading. This doesn't even look interesting to me, and I'm the one who wrote it!
Oh well, might as well embrace the insanity until it dies out; sitting for two hours with no significant thought is a huge waste. Could have at least been sleeping. So instead I'll give a try for improv.
Swirling clouds, purple bruises hastened forth by shivering wind
Out here amongst the grasses, across this plain of calm grey
They don't seem lost, perhaps restless, careworn, preemptively detached
Gold stalks rise with grace, from moist earth below
The horizon quite close, no mountains nor peaks in sight
Only great oaks on each side, serene in stern majesty overbearing
Here in the center of whirl, yet remote in seclusion
Home isn't where you are, it's who you're with.
Mmm. Giving thanks is underrated. Let me think here: I'm sitting on a steady chair, with the light on, food in a refrigerator across the room, typing on an expensive electronic thing... and I think I'm most thankful right now for these pants I'm wearing, they really fit well. That and knowing pretty much nobody reads these posts.... my slightly insane posts due to sicky-yuckness and fuzzy brain-fever makes for uninspired reading. This doesn't even look interesting to me, and I'm the one who wrote it!
Oh well, might as well embrace the insanity until it dies out; sitting for two hours with no significant thought is a huge waste. Could have at least been sleeping. So instead I'll give a try for improv.
Swirling clouds, purple bruises hastened forth by shivering wind
Out here amongst the grasses, across this plain of calm grey
They don't seem lost, perhaps restless, careworn, preemptively detached
Gold stalks rise with grace, from moist earth below
The horizon quite close, no mountains nor peaks in sight
Only great oaks on each side, serene in stern majesty overbearing
Here in the center of whirl, yet remote in seclusion
Home isn't where you are, it's who you're with.
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