I think this is right....

Marking my first post here's something I made earlier...

Awaking a little too early in the morning, yet in time to expel the contents of my bladder, I stumble back to my slumber with very little desire to be walking the same pathway twice this very day. It’s not that I fear the commode nor want to be on my feet; I simply crave to be beside all that I want for the day.
Me thinks an art piece lies somewhere beneath the covers here. It is more than a matter of the voluptuous nude beside me. It is an unusual want to just be.
Though I know; this is where the sick and the wounded lose time to heal, this is where depressants stay with nothing worth waking for, this is where fatties grow fat, this is where the hippies stay in a stupor for “bed peace”. These all bring negative connotations I think you’d agree (I include hippies as bed peace simply brought noises of photographs and journalists). The bed in its most sufficient and enjoyable form is for sleep and sex. Right?
This desire to be becomes a difference to me. Forever I have lain in bed contemplating what I have of worth to get up for. So what if all I want is within my immediate surroundings? Could I plan a day – a creative day where the bed and my room is the sole contentment? What worth could a single room hold for 24 hours?


Nathan Elliott (...you've splet my name wrong!)