Feeling: High but not hectic
Listening to: Incubus
Reading/Watching: nothing

I drove home from work today with windows down, because air conditioning is overrated past 9 p.m., and as a result started blasting Incubus's "A Crow Left of the Murder" because road noise makes it harder to hear, since my good ear is to the window.

It felt good, driving at night with the crazysilly music surrounding me.

I started collecting random phrases in my head, things I'll probably wind into a poem at some point:

I am:
Wild but not wicked
Shy but not timid
Once-frantic polygirl straightens her sides
Alone but not lonely
Odd but not ugly
The sway in her hips is what lengthens her stride.

....and I ran out. It will surely continue to spawn out of itself, though, now that the kernel of idea is there.

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