This week, school is down a couple points. Or rather, poetry. It appears that my writing has a little stage fright or rather can not show itself on command. Kind of like when my brothers used to have burping competitions. I could never understand how they could burp on command (and in tune, harmony and all).

I wrote in my notebook today, “I wish there was a degree for self-help and personal transformation. I would already have my Phd.”

This week I am feeling either too ethereal or just plain dumb for mainstream school…do they have a special english degree for people who have read all the books on co-dependency but just happened to bypass Gone With the Wind?

I need a restorative yoga class. ASAP.