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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/854828-This-ones-about-July-nineteenth
Rated: GC · Book · Personal · #2002599
My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so.
#854828 added July 20, 2015 at 10:37am
Restrictions: None
This one's about July nineteenth.
** Image ID #1911719 Unavailable **


What's up folks? It finally happened today...I got my first sunburn of the year. Only a mild one; no big deal...and in a day or two I'll likely be tan for the rest of the summer. I'm lucky like that. I'm also probably some kinda walking melanoma, but whatever...I'll burn that bridge once I cross it. I think I was only out for about two, maybe two and a half hours (or long enough to make a trip to the store, come back, and read about seventy more pages Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle), but it was like the peak time when the sun's at its most potent. The only thing worse than being sunburned when you're sunburned...is that first shower after. You know as soon as the water hits you like a rainstorm of broken glass and needles endlessly scraping and pricking you that you need to be careful, but your arms aren't in that TLC caregiver mode at all...you load up the scrubbie with the bodywash, and you start goin' at it like you always do, and you may as well be usin' a cheese grater. Why does my muscle memory hate me like this?! Same thing all over again when you start to towel off too...you know your arms just put you through a traumatic experience, and yet here they go, determined to start another Civil War between the right and left sides of your body.

But whatever; I ain't complainin'...even though I got caught in another typical Cortland downpour that was bad enough to force me to temporarily abandon my walk home underneath a bank's drive-thru tunnel. I don't understand how it goes from sunny and awesome all day...to a five minute long tornado-fest of swirling wind that blows up dust hard enough to sting...to another five minutes consisting of a torrential downpour that leaves an inch of standing water in the parking lot of my building once it's over. It's unanswered questions and odd quirks like this that made me stop wanting to care about weather so long ago in the first place.

And besides, I have an entry to write for the "Invalid Item. Since I'm feeling sorta blank about the pictures we've been given (nobody's fault for that, by the way...I'm probably emotionally and spiritually running on empty for whatever reason), I've decided I'm gonna attempt a short little poem and then bid this whole post adieu.

30-Day Image Prompt.


Bleed Electric

I wasn't you...I couldn't be
what you managed to put inside me.
I tried to change my currents into
an emotional currency spent through
matching an intention bent to
reciprocate all you meant to do
for me. I love you but honestly
I'm not willing and it's killing me.

The way you infected me was
stronger than respect should be and
when I scratch the itch of your body
against me, I can't set myself free.
I don't bleed for love or
to feel your power from above me.
I won't need compatibility
to tear open my electricity.


Well, that didn't take too long and it wasn't so bad...I might even keep that piece around and maybe tweak it a little (if I remember to). But as of now it's a Sunday night, and you've got better things to do, and I've got better things to blow off, so let's agree to part ways for now and hopefully meet up again soon. Peace, that happiness is mine, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/854828-This-ones-about-July-nineteenth