rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Dismal

So when afternoon arrived, out came the sun, drying all the shine the streets had gathered, and away flew the great puffs of white, billowing cloud and whatever remaining rain they might have contained. There is a musty scent in the air, made by decaying things gotten wet after long being dry. Summer ended with a gray day and now autumn has begun with this cheery brilliance. Tonight the vivid white moon glows in perfectly clear sky. ::yawn::. Yes, ::yawn:: I say! I'm in no mood for cheeriness! The only thing that brought a hint of a smile to my face today was the news that a large chunk of earth in Los Angeles had melted away and slid into a street. Ah, nostalgia! I only wish I'd been there to see it. A nice Southern California downpour would have suited me so much better than that day and night of halfhearted drizzle.


Of course this mood calls for a very moody
Sunday Verse

Inscription For The Ceiling Of A Bedroom


by Dorothy Parker


Daily dawns another day;
I must up, to make my way.
Though I dress and drink and eat,
Move my fingers and my feet,
Learn a little, here and there,
Weep and laugh and sweat and swear,
Hear a song, or watch a stage,
Leave some words upon a page,
Claim a foe, or hail a friend-
Bed awaits me at the end.

Though I go in pride and strength,
I'll come back to bed at length.
Though I walk in blinded woe,
Back to bed I'm bound to go.
High my heart, or bowed my head,
All my days but lead to bed.
Up, and out, and on; and then
Ever back to bed again,
Summer, Winter, Spring, and Fall-
I'm a fool to rise at all!



Take that, Sunday!
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