What it Is

I have proven myself a failure at being consistent. Methinks this should be a place for me. Maybe not the collected me that makes sense. More like the me that likes to be. To wonder, to plan, to think, to understand. I want to write everyday. It is my hope that this is the blog that will facilitate that goal.

I dont make any promises. You could still call this my creative blog. But I'd like to think of it more as the debris that is left behind after all the normal thoughts blow through my consciousness.

Don't expect it to always make sense or be worth your time. I think the main goal if for it to be my sanity.

Mottled Light

Mottled Light
the way my mind feels sometimes, waiting for a breakthrough.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Entry Fourty-Nine

Oh, the anticipation. I can barely take it.

I have been in the 40's too long.

About time to move from Hitler to Elvis.

"This perfume that I mixed myself"

Sounds like one of those stories that gets put in books filled with compilations of inspirational anecdotes.

It's actually kind of an interesting story, but I think that this woman was a little messed up when she was 16.

I think I was a little weird then too. But at least I mostly had my head on straight when it came to love. Maybe not. That was 5 years ago.

Who wants to tell me a story? I would have to record you. Well, maybe not. But that would be best. I think any old interesting story would work.

Still sick=still wanting to sleep all the time. I got 2.5 hours today and I am actually tired right now. It's only 10:35!

I think that entry 50 will have to be some good time fun writing. I mean a little addition to my current story that I actually think might go somewhere.

Dang. Every time I say that, it goes nowhere.

Which is where I am going right now.

Or...to bed, actually. Not nowhere.

Dreams. I can't wait.

3...2...1...

Zero.
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