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?