boys are kryptonite

Boys are Kryptonite

I struggled yesterday to get my working groove. I had hit a mini wall on the path of being creative and it wasn’t even near midnight… I flagged in the realm of inspiration and decided to tuck myself in after beating myself up mentally trying to generate myself.

Today is a new day. Maybe I was too cold, maybe I was partied out, maybe I missed someone. But who?

How I wish I had a muse right now; an inspired beautiful soul to sing me a song when my head goes silent like this bringing a world of fresh air through a kiss.

But only for a minute…. I have work to do… okay… maybe for a half-hour more….

Oh blasted romantic weakness!

I had a passing moment while brushing my teeth this morning… (a great place for epiphanies)..

Supergirl thinks boys are kryptonite.

Keep that stuff back over at USC… no, I don’t really need that chocolate from Switzerland… eek, flowers might kill me too! Yes, I am freaking out… it’s OBVIOUS… That Beethoven 2nd and 3rd movement shouldn’t have taken me 2 weeks. I’m staring at your flowers like it is a hypnotic stone. There’s not a poem kicking around my head at the moment…. Where are my words!??

Thank you, my love, your picture will be fine. It’s perfect. Everything is perfect. I’ll see you soon… Tada… Now don’t you worry about me one bit… I’ll call you. Kiss kiss… I have to go now and save the world or at least get a Nobel Peace Prize.

I thought I was impervious to mushy mushy syndrome. But I caught a bug last year and my inner scientist analyzed and studied it (behind glass with gloves and an oxygen mask). In my findings, I found that there are certain properties that are rare but debilitating.

I am free for now and unhindered. There is no kryptonite in the premises. I am gaining my strength. I just may have my leisure reading on neurotranmitters done by tonight.



~ by jnetsworld on December 19, 2005.


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