My Cardboard Balcony

I've just finished a yearbook deadline. I'm in the middle of my annual performance poetry unit with my English classes. I've let the appropriate people know about my decision that I only hinted at in last week's introspection. No, you're not getting any more details for me. I had to be reminded of something today, and it really jarred me. I talked about it with my wife on BART, as we were able to see a great play in the city (it's called, The Do's and Don't's and Time Travel, and if you're a bay area local, freaking see it, it's going until the 26th, here's a link ). And when I told her about my experience, after so many days of stress and anxiety and anger from the people around me, I really began to realize how much I was losing my passion for something that is, in truth, super important to me. But I want to write my thoughts down in a way that's appropriate to my life right now. Yep - time for some cheesy spoken word. Enjoy.

Don't Ask Me The Rules by Belinda Roddie My favorite new game is bowling with my enemies' skulls!

Everyone likes to say that I don't have the courage to confront my problems. I ignore them, they claim with a pointed finger and a standard accusatory tone; I just pretend they're not there, sweep everything under the rug. Well, why the rug, out of curiosity? I mean, my floors are all hardwood, and the carpeting upstairs can't have anything swept under it. How about I keep my problems in an old empty vodka bottle instead, like preserving dying insects, and I enjoy watching their exoskeletons slowly decay in the sunlight from my kitchen's bay window?