Return of the Muse

The muse has returned....or at least in theory. I find myself home again and words do not deceive me here. Everything is real and I connect to all that surrounds me, clear. I am not lost, only in my mind and I am at peace, for the time.

I have arrived late in the morning and found no glory as the sun rose.
My eyes were shut. I did not enjoy that different hued horizon,
and I frankly didn't care much for it. I wanted to rest and take care of me; call me selfish, I don't care about that either. I'm exhausted and you know what --- I'm going to sleep.

So when I wake up and am well rested, I found that there is just more to be done, decisions to be made. When will I be done?

--when you're dead!

Damn, well that sucks. Because I am not yet ready for that last ride,
that final journey that he
or she
will take me on.
Afraid to die, nah....afraid in the way I will die...uhhh...yeah!

So I sit in this armchair and divine what I should do.
More is left undone, and I sit procrastinating,
waiting,
waiting....
well this isn't helping.

So now what? I guess I'll write a poem, or finish the one I was writing before I talked on the phone. Woah, there we go making plans I'll never really keep unless I force myself. I will force myself, eventually.In reality I'm just going to sit here chuckling.

The muse has hit me and I have written.....something. my mind wanders and I write it all done. But when will these wild thoughts end. Its all about school and what I plan to do, what I know I won't do. How is this at all interesting? Its not but the point is that I get it out.

Onto paper and into art
nowhere is where I began,
but how did I start?