Than sealing up an envelope
To submit to a poetry contest.
It gives me this overwhelming feel of
Accomplishment.
A sort of "This is what I do, and I'm pretty damn happy with it."
It's a good feeling.
But that could just be the envelope glue talking.
(But not really, because I didn't lick the envelope.)
Typing up that final draft
And printing it off
Is glorious.
And really,
It seems to be more of a daily occurrence
To think
"This is what I do."
"This is what I will do."
And I guess,
That despite things,
This is what I want to do.
I would love nothing more.
And while I won't admit this every day of the week,
And I still won't call myself a poet,
I damn well love poetry.
Perhaps now the trick
Isn't finding what I'll do,
It's finding how I'll do it.
Successfully.
Which could be a terrible challenge.
But what is life without risks?
Before I start spewing gibberish at you,
I should go to bed.
I'm sort of hoping for some really weird and vivid dreams,
Seeing as I finally watched Inception.
It was so rad.
Confusing at points,
But so cool.
I'm debating the end though.
What do you think?
Did Cobb go back to reality?
Or did he choose to stay in the dream world?
Does it matter?
But alas, it was a lovely film.
Such a crazy-new concept, too.
I've no clue how Christopher Nolan came up with the idea.
It's awesome.
I was particularly fond of the scenes
In the second dream level
Without gravity
Where it appeared as though Arthur was just swimming
Through the halls.
Spiffy.
And have you noticed,
That a lot of modern films
Have that sort of "timeless" aspect to them.
They have style elements in the scenery and clothing and whatnot
That are very classic,
Yet modern?
I love it.
Adieu!
Goodnight!
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