Quiet day at work today. I brought in my iPod because I burnt about 70 new songs on to it last night and was dying to listen to them all (Hello 'Sinnerman Remix' by Nina Simone and 'Aurora' by Foo Fighters). Luckily nobody minds me listening to it while I work. I don't turn it up too loud so I can still hear the phone. I've been playing it since about 9.30 this morning apart from an hour when I went out for lunch, and I'm only on song 66 of 165 ('All Along the Watchtower' by Jimi Hendrix, should you be interested, fact-fans).
Yesterday I found some poems I wrote about eight years ago. I'm thinking about posting them on here but am unsure. I've never really been one for poetry, though I have a notebook with favourites in (including song lyrics). Saying that, though, I've not added any new ones to it for God knows how long. I think this is to do with an earlier post I made about not finding magic in stuff much any more now that I'm a "grown-up". Poetry, music, movies, letters, clipped-out pictures, and feelings were how I expressed myself when I was sixteen or seventeen, hence I used to copy out great poems into said notebook, but I'd never do that now. *Sigh* Where did the Me from Then go?
Anyway, I'm going to think about the poetry. When I wrote the poems they were very personal to me, so you might get to read them, you might not!