Hate It All

Today I feel like:

I don't have any desire to be any kind of writer.
Nothing is funny.
Comedy is frivolous.
I don't enjoy revision.
I don't enjoy ideas.
I am not creative.
I do not want to be.
Everything has been done.
Everything is also over.
I really enjoy this wind, blowing outside my window. It blew my navy polka-dot skirt up today. A stranger walked by and tried not to laugh.
Yosh made cookie Oreo brownies--AKA "slutty brownies"--and gave them to me and fellow sketchers at our Monday meeting. I wish I could have eaten the entire batch.
I did not wish I could grade these papers, do these rewrites, wander into a community, add some art, help some minds, jot things down, devise some movement, staple together some big stuff, produce a show, graduate with this degree, use it for something nice. I just don't want to. I just don't want to at all.

But tomorrow, my friends, is another day.


Appropriate. KKK sketch. 2011. (Yosh is in the get-up.)

I don't wanna job.
I don't wanna go to school.
I don't wanna job--
I've got more important things to do.