The cheap dorm room carpet digs into my back.
Laying on the floor is a magical thing.
It's much like driving on back roads at night.
It's so mundane and ordinary,
yet somehow mystical.
It's easy for the mind to wander,
to take sharp, unexpected turns.
My thoughts start simple
and slowly expand to grander things,
ending in death or sometimes God.
I usually end up crying,
both while driving and while laying on the floor.
AN: Throwback to that time not that long ago when I was sobbing while driving down the freeway. Good times.
Something I hope for.
These days I'm really hoping to pass my math class. It's hard. I'm not currently passing but hopefully by the end of the semester I will be.
I hope my presentation on Friday goes well and that I don't look stupid.
I hope that my friends will the joy of now. A lot people struggle with this. I'd say too many. Myself included.
I hope the spider I saw in my room earlier is gone for good. I hope he realized that this is not where he wants to build a home.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of a Ham Sandwich
PoetryA collection of poems. If you're reading for the first time start at the end.