Body and Soul

Body and Soul are confused by the changes in the weather. One day it is cold, so my body grows weary and my heart sinks and wishes for sleep, so that I may hurry on toward the days when I will stop feeling depressed and icy. The next day it is warm, and my body grows restless with need for frantic activity, while my soul fights off a nameless ache for romance/nature/light/sky/green/adventure/love. I cry without knowing why and can’t seem to focus my attention and energies on any of the hundred seemingly pointless tasks that await me. I create drama out of the mundane in some fruitless effort to harness the creative impulse which I can’t manage to channel into some kind of lasting art. I hate my inability to pour myself into the act of creation. Something in there needs a cleaning, but I can’t get it to shake free and fall out. I listen to the sad songs, because nothing else seems to speak to me, but hate doing it because I know it will only make things worse. My beloved’s arms are the only shelter I find.

It’ll rip me if I let it.

Oh snap!

Here it is, yo. New blog. Seemed like the cool thing to do, so here it is.

School starts again tomorrow. I’m going to put the fear of God Almighty in those little punks. No more Miss Nice Teacher. If they want to control my classroom, they better bring their A game, because I’m ready for them. You know it.

That’s it for now.