I can’t seem to focus on writing do not have the energy you have to use your hands and arms your brain sidewalk brain so hard to think straight when it bubbles up so so hard to think there’s all the work work dull Jack little Jill I am forever tumbling down that hill.
I am just a slug, but with a shell and little pointed ears straight up. I would never slug about unclothed. On the front steps. Under the weather trail of slime.
A big burst of energy would be fantastic.
Deciding which writing project to bear down and pursue would be helpful.
Standing slogging around in shit pit could be helpful as I would throw huge clods at my enemies. Not the people in the pit. No, all the people not in said pit. Watch out, that’s shit in your face.
Some big thing will come straight down the track today and it may be a bad thing and it may be a good thing.
Here’s mud in your eye.