(although, I've always wanted to BE HIM)
and not the Moody Blues -
and actually not the blues, at all.
Just grumbly, growly, orneriness.
It rolls through me on occasion,
usually for no easily apparent reason.
Today we could blame the heat
(I've done it before)
or the fact that it's Monday
in my world of 9-to-5-ing,
or maybe we could blame
hormones or sleep cycle or --
any number of other minor details,
but the cause doesn't really matter today.
Just the roar.
The silent roar of the giant silver lion pacing back and forth within my chest.
I choose stasis over glory,
and I don't know how to have both.
Can I have both?
Can I feel the thrill of trying to impress this dear man who loves me unconditionally?
It is a living oxymoron--
the two states are mutually exclusive.
I dunno.
But I hate when I feel grouchy
and I hate it that I can't seem to find that part of me that receives inspiration;
and either way,
I just want to go take a long bath,
and read some literary perfection...
(Toni Morrison, maybe, or John Irving)
and maybe dream of Quantum Leap-ing through all the marvelous books I haven't yet written...
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