I was painting the other night in a kind of waking dream state. I'm sure some of you have done that thing where you just turn off your concious mind and let the other half decide what to do on the canvas... or maybe I'm just kind of freaky. Anyway, I look up at one point to see words scratched into the canvas... rhyming words. I have some interpretations of my own on this little waking dream, but I want to know what you think.

"Answers buried underground
No hiding now
It's time to hear the sound"

Watching time wander hourlessly
In a world of circumstantial everything,
I pace myself accordingly,
Partaking of another day
While a tune floats between my ears.

The nights get cold
And all I feel is endlessness.

Insomnia is a friend of mine.
I work to feed its hunger.

There’s an ever present hue of green
That haunts my inner eye instead.

My imagination runs without a winded breath.
I try to keep up,
Wondering if I’m destined to fade.
And still the tune I hum,
Constant lullaby knocking on my door.

I try to be the good girl,
Who says the right thing,
Who looks the right way,
Who wants to be perfect.

I don’t even like that song.