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I've got a magic hat,
That'll take you back in time.
So we can go shoot pool,
In 1999.
Or back to the 80's,
We can dance, dance baby!
Do the robot all the way back,
To the 50's.
That's where I left my I-pod,
Hope they haven't found that. . .
Inspired by the song, "Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats.
Ironic
I have rituals
for the first day of class
like a superstitious athlete
they get me into a good frame of mind
where I feel like a juggernaut who has total agency
and doesn’t need to seek validation
It’s a moment in time

I have all my books—stacked on my desk
they look serious—very nuts and bolts
I’ve beaten the syllabuses to death
to try to figure out where my power lies
learning is all energy, it’s a marathon
it’s hard to sustain that for the entire semester
so not switching off, now and then, is unrealistic

Still, I’m comfy in in a classroom (I’m a senior)
Good students are just a little weird.
I say hello to the moon so she won’t feel alone
I say ‘cheers,” before taking a shot of mouthwash.
If I lose my ID, my lucky pencil or something, I call out, “treasure hunt!”
When treating everyone to grubHub I ask, ‘the usual?’ When we’re done I ask, ‘how was everything this evening?’
If I see a random girl looking fabulous, I tell her, because if I get complimented, I think about it for a week.
.
.
A song for this:
Thetan by Single Gun Theory
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 03/19/25:
Juggernaut = something unstoppable
Your beautiful wave washed over me,
When I was a lonely shore off the sea.

Wrapping its elegance over my sands,
The way we hold each others' lonely hands.

Replaced the dust with dazzling sea glasses,
Brought back the sparkle to my heart's masses.
Each stanza rhymes and is 20 syllables
I learned to spar with my stray thoughts,
Every ounce of fear or anxiety,
Becomes a battle of wit.

Though that may not work for everyone,
Some just build lanterns,
A way to see through the night.

Others learn to silence their worries,
Utilizing weapons to wipe away their nightmares,
Burning holes where there once was doubt.
Everyone has their own cure.
  Mar 24 Abbott J Hardison
alia
I sit with my thoughts, they whisper, they creep,
Dark little secrets I swore I would keep.

I scare myself with the things I feel,
The weight, the doubt, are any of them real?

I smile, I laugh, I play along,
But inside, it all feels so wrong.

Is it me, or just my mind?
I’m scared to look, scared to find.
I often get afraid of myself lately.. like what if i accidentally did this in real life? what if I was just disappeared god knows how.
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