going to work

music is playing,singing through my veins,as speakers alternate in permeating,me with the vigorous waves of sound,that echo through me.i write or type with no direction except the fact that i desire to say something,whimsical,profound,or just a meaningless jumble of thought,understood by only me,perhaps,who knows,without a doubt i wish to say something,so we shall see.what,where shall i start?work?it was a good week,no complaints,or rather none i could not control,i strip and wax floors for  a living.i love it,without being egotistical,i truly believe my joy,in this work,could only be comprehended by someone of an artistic bent,for while it is considered by some,a menial job,there is in me an artistic form to this work.to take something from nothing and create a work of art,reflective,mirrored,shining beauty, similar to a blacksmith working with a dull,dirty lump of iron,working it ,melting and creating out of a dancing ,bright flame,a work of his imagination formed by skill and tricks of the individual knowledge he has ascertained through experiences of his own.similarities exist upon the completion,reflections on the masterpieces,inspired by the beauty we find in the finished work,knowledge that we seek to bring an even higher degree of art,questions arising in the pursuit of perfection,how can we improve,knowing there has to be a way to make it seem liquid,in its reflection,wishing to seemingly create a flow of glass,a mirror of reflection which you fear to tread,deep,slippery and wet to the eyes,firm to the hesitant step, disbelief to the mind,trickery to the senses.that is fulfillment.that i have achieved,not to my own satisfaction,but to others,unknowingly praising me with cautions of, that's wet,replying i admit with a bit of conceit,no its dry,you can walk there,feeling inside that high,lifting me momentarily,into that zone,this is what its about,my rush of joy,knowledge that i have betrayed their senses,created a work,mine, satisfaction and a desire to retain this inspirational moment.better,better,it pushes,fool their minds,create glass,liquid in appearance.i love it.work is good,the pitfalls i welcome the ability to overcome, confrontation of simulations,are but dances,moments where i am given the opportunity to shine,here i rise,grasp within my mind and overcome with laughter,joy,and knowledge.my forte,my ability to dance in the seemingly worst of situations,my hunger for moments of calamity, adrenalin dormant,bored,reserved, situation hot,no answer in sight,no way out,watch my leap,the joy ,the confrontation i greet with such joy,the clash,feel my rush,heady,foolhardy,and be deceived by the quiet,controlled and soft solution,i expose to cover the eruption,hot,within,exploding in my mind,fearing of my inability to conquer,hiding all as i work the answer with no evidence of my uncertainty.living,here is life,not for me the droll,day to day existence of being alive,highs,lows,i have known them all.to enjoy living,this my desire,not to sleep, subconsciously getting by,aware of the fragile,unknown hold time will allow me.the music is playing me,wrapping,coloring the words i set forth,itsdance,a frenzy,painting my thoughts,birthing them here.work calls,i go,stalling in my hunger to share,reveal,share,thoughts,for which i want to rewrite a vocabulary to express myself.ahhhh,but then who would translate,i seek descriptions of thought inside,revelations i wish to share with the sadness of knowing words,here they fail,my thoughts rampant in search of description,later yall,i guess i will have to study the dictionary,to describe all i wish to say.