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.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Entry Sixty-Seven

Time to revisit.

And why.

And how.

Does anyone understand? Because I could use an explanation.

Billowing curtains and a breath of fresh air.

Wafting.

Few nights like this. How long will they last?

How long will any of it last?

And where are those who would tell me that they want me to stay? Where do they exist?

Phantoms. Because they are mostly drops in my wishing well.

And that, and that, and that, and that. The drops could make an ocean. And every once in a while, I draw from the well. Hoping that somehow, the wishes have become manifest. But it's just water.

Nothing more.

My pumpkin is rotting. Plain and simple. There is nothing different in that.

A fish, two birds. What lives do they live? Should I be thankful to be a sentient being?

Goodnight, inner and darker thoughts. Sleep may dull you, but I have a feeling that you will return in full force by the break of day.
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