Flesh & Bone

Not to bore you all.
But whatever.
I'm lonely and
would like to blog.
I also really feel like
going out and doing
nothing and everything
and eating chipotle.

But blogging is easier.

Today there were real workshops,
three of them, really.
Poetry.
Fiction (cross-writing)
and one of the professors here
gave a workshop,
really dealing with word choice.

All of these were lovely.
We got an hour of writing time
in the nifty and musty old library,
of which there are lots of nooks
and odd spaces to cram into
and write.

Which I did, I found a
little shelf-thing and sat
there all cozy and secluded
and proceeded to crank out
five decent pieces,
some better than others.

Five is more than I've written
in quite a while it feels like.
I am here to write and talk about
writing, so I will. I will write
(with pen and paper!!!!!).
I will speak (even very softyl!!!).

Although, despite the good,
I cannot sleep.
It'll go like this all week
and I will be exhausted every day.
I have been so sleepy all day long,
and my roommate succumbed and
is taking a nap. But I simply
cannot sleep.

Perhaps the insomnia will
birth good, hearty poems.
Perhaps it'll be freeing.

I'm trying to remain optimistic here,
I love the work, I love the campus,
I even really like some of the people!
But I am damn lonely and tired.

And I'll get fat because
there are chocolate chip cookies at
like, every meal. And who cannot resist
those ommy-nom delicious things?

There is a reading tonight,
I am excited.
But first, socializing at dinner.
Because that is certainly my forte.