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.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Entry Eighty-Four

I am filled with something I cannot eject or escape.

I want to overflow past the brim of my limited mind.

I drink in the air. I feel it's welcoming touch. It only makes things worse.

The more I try to drown out the feeling, the stronger it becomes.

You can only run from something for so long, but it catches up to you and you find it has gained momentum since you last encountered it.

Life is too beautiful to write about death. Love is too elusive to try and harness it in words. Fiction feels like lying. Reality is of no consequence.

Everything has been done before. That is the titanium lid that is capping what wants to burst out of me. Could I do better than anyone else?


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