poetry

Sometimes I feel like i am a tree
backlit by the sun
so much potential
so much beauty
so much outlined by light
and then i say to myself:
Betsy, you are not a tree
you are the sun.

Goals

So it is my idea, technically, to have me write for an hour a day. To have that as a goal I mean. But it shouldn't be too hard, right? I mean really, a lousy little hour? Maybe this would be easier if I had a paper and pencil, instead of just the click and tap of keys to accompany my writing experience. And maybe I should be sitting in a cafe down on center street, looking artistic and cute. Not that I don't look cute here in the LRC, I'm just saying it is a different effect when you are streetside halfheartedly sipping coke that was brought to you in a bottle and steadily working your way through delicious potstickers (ok, maybe I am a little bit hungry. As well as strongly desiring to look artistic. In fact, those just might be my two most forceful motivations for life right there. Looking artistic, original, like a cultured, smart lady, and wanting to eat delicious things. That, my friends, is a great Venn diagram to be in the center of).


Listening to: "Take a Look at Me Now" The Postal Service