Today's Muse: Still along the lines of RAPP RAPP RAPP

I wandered into the comic section and felt so disillusioned.
Curious.

Why am I not at comic-con? No, don't answer that, just let me wobble a bit. Wobble.

Not even those amusing rating communities cheered me. Read Jung. Still in a funk. Ought to write out proper sentences. Oh dear. Why am I not in San Diego, getting into trouble with the rest of 'em? Itchy. Should go and do laundry. Argh I just fucked up my shoulder. Argh.

Let's try this again.

You ever have one of those days when you wake up and everything, and I do mean everything suddenly takes on new meaning - double meanings - triple meanings? You're walking down the street and you can't stop seeing the poetry in every bloody little thing. The careless way the guard holds his rifle at the pearly gate. The light glinting off the cars whizzing past. How a tree branch seems to frame the sky. How you slip and nearly land in the mud. And you can't turn it off! You just keep waxing lyrical about fuck-all.

And your brain seems to be floating at least a mile up above your skull, and you bump into lamps and small children and you can't stop smiling and generally giving off creepy vibes. And small children pee in their fright at your creepiness. PEE.

But! You wander into the comic section and your brain comes crashing back to earth. SPLAT. SPOOSH. PWISHOOM.

And you come home and try to put it all into words and you read what you've written and realised it's a load of crap but publish it anyway and go off to do the laundry like you should have.