Back in the Saddle Again....

Why of course i am not riding a horse!!  I am simply referring to the fact that i have not posted in at least 3.574645364326426436 eternities.  I was stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.  But the middle of nowhere actually has great cell service.  

It was kinda funny really.  Most of the "cities" had about the same population as my high school.  Weird right??  Small town USA is a community i will never join, fo shizzle.  

It's funny.  Me and my girly friends who arent P Meggy the Missing and i often talk about what we would like from our future.  They're all lik "I wanna live in a small town with a farmer for my husband!!" and i'm just lik "Big city.  Maybe a guy who knows a thing or two about music.  Or everything about music.  No farmers tan, please's and thank you's."

Watch.  In ten years, I'll be helping my hubby grow potatoes and they'll be living in New York City.  We will both be jealous.  

P Meggy the Misanthropist has certainly lived up to her title.  She hasnt killed your mother (that i know of) or worn a Tshirt that says "I hate people in general" but has most definitely neglected human contact whenever possible.  She will be blogging soon though....maybe.  

Which would mean that you could soon escape my slightly emo and probably depressing poetry, which you will soon encounter.  I realized while rereading The Bad Beginning by Lemony Snicket that, not only do my classmates often spell beginning as beggining, which sounds rather painful, my poetry is alot lik the Series of Unfortunate Events.  Probably predictable, definitely awkward, filled with strange words, maybe cliche, but hopefully not hilarious.  Poetry is basically me bearing my soul to the world.  And the internets.  

So here goes more poetry.  As usual.  Try not to cry.  Wink wink, giggle giggle.

Insanity and Insecurity

I can't stand playing second fiddle
But it's all, all too easy
When you're so used to stepping back
Pretending to be content with the harmony


It's probably sick and twisted, how happy I am for them
Through my seemingly perpetual bitterness
How I'm used to being left,
Alone, forsaken, and loveless


When up comes down, I'm sure I'm considered insane
When it's found I'm insecure
So many call me gorgeous
But is that worth anything if it's all I'm wanted for?


This rhyme scheme's messed up, my poetry's not that great
But does that matter if this is all I want to say?


This is just therapy....CatCooper<3