writing
beautiful
nonsense
[the hj farr story]
writing
beautiful
nonsense
[the hj farr story]
the beauty
of a soft friendship,
of a tender friendship,
of a caring, loving, beautiful, thoughtful,
gentle
friendship.
we should all have those
and we should all be those
people
to someone
who needs that
friendship.
a night without my kip
is like seventy nights with only two hours’ sleep
is like all the comfort of a big bed and no cover for warmth to keep
is like relying on noises to lull you, and finding nighttime in extreme silence
for the first time
ever.
a night without my kip
is not a night of
rest.
why is it that
when i am beginning to be social
on the social medias
i get so panicked and stressed and scared?
is the internet —
particularly the portion
with people one already knows —
really that frightful?
a very short
writing pages
day
not too many
poems/
not too much
to say
maybe in the evening
there will be more time
to think and write some more
[but by then
we’re writing for a deadline
so…]
the consequences of adhd
[or even maybehd]
are incredibly frustrating
because
i have no one to blame
but me,
and i want
so desperately
to blame somebody
[because it never works out the way i dream,
but sometimes it does get better than it initially seemed…]
it’s all a wild ride and a complete surprise
with maybe-ad-hd
routine
not ruined
not stopped
just adjusted
for guests
i love my kip’s little head nods
of a great beat —
the impulse to dance
while sitting and programming at the table —
there’s only so much you can move,
so kip moves
their head in a nod
as if to say
“yes
yes
yes
this beat
is
yes”
this puppy
is so damn stinky
what on earth did she eat
that we did not see?
birds
distract
from writing
from trying
to get to know
the inside of my own head
maybe
they’re saying
‘get to know the earth
and the universe
first,
for “you” are just one part
of all’