its all small talk...not important, or insightful, or even entertaining.
repeating myself
"this sounds just like that other entry you wrote a few back...bored"
why strive to come up with some new thing or feeling to write about?
iterations! iterations! iterations! of the same feelings...of the same 10%.
go ahead, say it.... "cry me a river susana, shut the fuck up!"
2 comments:
I come from Alabama
With my banjo on my knee
I'm going to Louisiana,
My true love for to see
It rained all night
The day I left
The weather it was dry
The sun so hot,
I froze to death
Susanna, don't you cry
Oh, Susanna,
Oh don't you cry for me
For I come from Alabama
With my banjo on my knee
I had a dream the other night
When everything was still
I thought I saw Susanna
A-coming down the hill
The buckwheat cake
Was in her mouth
The tear was
In her eye
Says I, I'm coming from the south
Susanna, don't you cry
Oh, Susanna,
Oh don't you cry for me
For I come from Alabama
With my banjo on my knee
Susy, you should know by now that CRACK KILLS!
(I'm just joshing. I enjoy this freeform poetry. You keep going.)
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