I'd Like to Thank You for Nothing at All

Left work early. Might be picking up some crud, or not enough sleep after the neighbor's car alarm went off at 4AM. The alarm going off was one thing, the gunshot that followed was another. There were no screams afterward.

So I'm in a bit of a fog.



The writing is coming, the feedback is minimal. Nothing like sending an email or message and not getting a response. Then I get accused of being passive aggressive, or if I get loud enough, an ass. So be it. Life's too short. I've got other things on my mind.

Last night's open mic, was just weird. Right from the start when a poet put on an MP3 from his phone of a MLK speech then left the stage until it was done. I said to him after that George Wallace gave that piece a 2.1 at the Atlanta Slam, and he did not know who George Wallace was.

The collaborative work we did may have gone over better with more rehearsal. In any case, what's done is done. Slam season starts next week and it's time to prove that going to IWPS was not me being Edison Lighthouse.