You know the famous saying All good things come to an end This applies to weekends as well Or in this case, Sundays Because I was forced to work yesterday Due to a massive project Which will keep me occupied For a good three weeks Including two Saturdays Hence, all the more reason To positively dread the start of tomorrow Ah yes, the infamous Monday Something that terrifies me More than climbing Mount Everest Or entering a lion's den Or earning the wrath of a cobra I can go on and on But I think I've made my point Yes, Mondays are bad Especially if you've enjoyed the weekend As much as I did Notwithstanding working on Saturday So, do you want to know What makes tomorrow twice as bad As any other Monday? Firstly, as mentioned earlier I am working on a big project Probably my biggest in the last three years Secondly, while the going has been smooth so far Things are going to get tricky So far, all I have accomplished Is pure research But now, I'll have to start calling people And these are not recruitment calls Which are relatively straightforward On the other hand I am entering pure sales territory Which may not be a big deal For most "normal" people But for someone who is autistic It is a different ballgame altogether In fact, it is like steering a ship Through the Bermuda Triangle And finally The biggest roadblock In my long and treacherous path Is not the candidates Not even the client But my accursed laptop Whose ability to perform under pressure Is even less than that of South Africa In a global cricket tournament
all this time, i've yet to come to terms with certain words for instance, design, and all of its nuance how do i design in true when i am a shard of azure experience in the endlessness of midnight blue?
all this time, i've yet to call my good form to return for instance, my designs, and all the nuances -- the water drains, shallow now, from my composition, as if i'm the desert, when once, i was my own oasis.
reflection is a given. still, how can i reflect this ill in good faith, when the poisonous sick saw my leg up ascend into ruins?
take a poor, fat, spiced chocolate kid from its welfare house put it in a program with rich kids, tell it it can be just like that, if it learns critical thinking, logical reasoning, communication, and problem solving. can it?
[falls asleep in a dumpster]
no one accounted for the rest of the hillbilly family. school officials build a false sense of equitable hope, and wear their badges with a flair of pride. guess what i learned at school today! not now, hon, we're watching dr. phil. then, it's my 600lb life. then judge judy. then house hunters. then the price is right. then
for all my preparation this project begins to slip away what if my great fantasy hinges on a banal happiness? the ink of ballpoint pen takes me as far as sorrow's edges i confess best to myself wetness skin to skin, with sweat's sweet and sour accompaniment is as close to happiness as i can steer this sinking ship as of late there's nothing left of the sweat to cleanse my dead palate