Wednesday, June 11, 2014

In Love with an Ass

Practice... Practice... Practice... Practice!  Last  night I got home after yet another long day of squeezing Midsummer rehearsals into every free second of the day and put the girls to bed and crashed, woke up at 1 a.m. dreaming about giggling fairies under the moon and carpenters writing plays in the forest and men turned into asses for love.
Laying in bed in the dark staring at the ceiling while the lights of the city wash against the walls... a man with the head of a donkey.  Sounds fitting.
It's a good insomnia question...how many times can you actually honestly admit that you were in love?
Frightening, huh?  What's frightening more is ... what happened?  Why did that love slip through your fingers?
Was there some cosmic rational for it...?  Some kind of unforeseen evolution bound to occur...?  Was there someone else you were destined for instead...?  Or was it some big joke and you're the punchline...?
Some lighthearted dream of fairy folly you became victim of... some fiendish plot of poison that passed through your system only to be flushed out the other end upon waking...?
People will always tell you, it is better to have loved and lost than never have loved before... you know what... try walking around with this head for a while, see how it feels.

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