Childrens Poems and Fake Blizzards

I decided to delete my last post, mainly because it made no sense, even to the creator ( yours truly)

WARNING: BLIZZARD LAST NIGHT. LIKE NOTHING UTAH HAS EVER SEEN

oh really? quite a blizzard, yes.

Luckily the power did go out, so Rachel and I could creep around at the early hours of the morning drinking chocolate prepared hot and sitting cross legged. Which was lovely. We made creepy videos and talked and laughed, like usual. Then we took turns reading Shel Silverstein poems in creepy/unusual accents.

most of them were clever and witty, but this one, read by me, took a dark and sad turn when i read the last line. we stopped laughing at it immediately.

“I met a ghost but he didn’t want my head,

He only wanted to know the way to denver.

I met the devil but he didn’t want my soul,

He only wanted to borrow my bike awhile.

I met a vampire but he didn’t want my blood,

He only wanted 2 nickels for a dime.

I keep meeting all the right people-

At all the wrong times.”

when i read it i was picturing a little child, and then, at the end, it sounds like he wants to lose his head, and his soul. He wants the vampire to drink his blood. is he suicidal, or yearning for adventure? who knew that Shel Silverstein was so...disturbing?

I'm now going to spend the rest of the day waiting for people to come out of their houses so i can photograph them.