Humpday….
I just wrote five hundred words about my frustrated Tuesday. When I read them back, I got more frustrated and erased all five hundred words.
I’ll take the advice of today’s quote and replace the frustration with inspiration. It is perfect that today is the day of the year where poetry is used randomly.
A day where you pull some Shakespeare out of your ass or some Walt Whitman. Frost is always good and so is the weird poet, E.E. Cummings.
The one that most of us had to memorize is the infamous line from Macbeth… “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.”
It pretty much summarized the frustration Macbeth himself was going through on a Tuesday in October.
Here is my random act of poetry,
“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.”
I once could recite that whole thing. I couldn’t do it this morning.
No frustration today, just astonishment
