Friday night randomness

I think everyone should take a moment to think about what annoyed them in the past week. The only time I feel comfortable doing that, is after a few glasses (still Chianti, still great):

- Obama won a Nobel peace prize? Great! When do I get my sobriety prize?

- Discussing the end of the book in the preface is simply evil. 

- Calling cards that tell you that you have 30 second left. Too short to say anything meaningful, but just saying bye leaves you with 20 seconds of awkward silence.

- Being bitched at for still being at the gym at closing time. Because there's nothing like getting yelled at by an angry russian while you're butt naked in the shower.

- Cold showers are an acquired taste. Cold showers with no pressure, however, are rather like Chinese water torture. 

- COP-15. If the point of state leaders is to appear like they're doing something while jacking off verbally, half my office would qualify. 

- Religion should not be publicized. It should be treated like a drug habit. 

Poetry and such

My dear Janis, it's been a strange night - a night like any other actually, until a poem raced through my mind. I'd written it years ago, but I was always aware that some parts were just filler; I'd look at it every now and then, and wonder and worry at the parts that just didn't fit. All of a sudden, tonight it formed itself, so easily like it should have been obvious all along. I love these moments, when words just pour out as if consciousness was not there in the way. Complete reality bypass, just words.

All it's missing is a title - I await your suggestions there ;)

 

Give in to me!

Forget the flowers and the sun, 

the dandylion light of day,

the naive blooms of spring to come,

the lazy, catatonic May.

I'll give you frost so cold you'll freeze

and burn in darkness with the stars,

the mad night rushing through my veins,

the black shine of forgotten scars.

Give in to me!

I'll be your queen, I'll be your slave;

entwined around you and cold as ice.

My love, we'll never warm a grave,

we'll burn the road to paradise.

I'll give you rhythm, worlds beneath your feet,

the bloody beat of crazy drums that call

in saltmine tears to loves we never meet,

in red-thorned fields to foes that never fall.

Come - kiss my hand!

Come - conquer me...

You don't need a safe place to land, 

it's fire that that makes history. 

I'm drinking a lovely Chianti and listening to Jennifer Hudson (And I am telling you, I'm not going). I'll have to pick up another bottle for your arrival.