Foggy Day

There is a very thick fog stretching across the sky of New York City.  I am working on the 37th floor of a building and when I look outside the window, I see nothing.  Wouldn’t it be nice to sleep on a cloud, if a cloud was made of marshmallows?  I don’t like marshmallows but I would imagine they would be soft and cuddly.

It is Friday.  The weekend is just too fast.  By the time I get home tonight, its already tomorrow and then the next day is already Sunday.  Why can’t we have 4 ten hour days and 3 days off.  I don’t think that’s unreasonable but it won’t happen here in the States.  :\ It is what it is, it was and will be.  I suppose.

Do you ever ask yourself, why didn’t I think of that?  I have all these ideas and they don’t seem to attract anyone.  How will I get people to read my blog, understand my poetry and appreciate my effort to try to appeal to the masses?  I don’t need acceptance but I would like to inspire someone as I have been inspired.  For example, inspired me to sign up for because that site produced a great concept for writing about 999 rooms.  Why didn’t I think of that?  Simplistic yet so clever.   I hope with writing blogs a good idea will come to me.  An original idea.

I think I may have an idea.  Seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.  I will let it marinate.

I sing in the car.  Really loud.  I love to sing and dance.  Always would sing and dance at BBQs and block parties.  I was never shy about showing off.  Not your typical emo writer although my poems are pretty dark.

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