Skip to main content
It's time to start writing again. Maybe not blogging about window shopping and crazy thrift finds and social commentary but something to keep my head from exploding with all these thoughts. I have too many blogs that I've started and stopped and I am trying to find an island of persistence. Something that doesn't erode away.

Not sure where that it but I'm sure that path lies down a bed of words. That I won't have any gasoline left in my tank unless I find a reason to use it.

I lost the meat phoenix there (haha, "metaphor" but I can't type and my phones autocorrect is nonsensical). No, I lost the metape or but I am not going to self-edit because being conscious of the act of writing while acting it out makes the magic disappear. And the magic rug revert to a dingy old thing only good to dust the dust under.

So I am writing without purpose without a destination in mind. Writing until I move myself to something else. A few minutes is better than nothing and I'm starting somewhere. Here somewhere.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ostrich

Too afraid to stand and fight; Too much pride to fly away. Cowardice: immobilize Egos lacking skill to play! Games of conflict can’t be played By those afraid to deal a hand. Flightless birds avoid their call Ostriching heads in the sand.  Thanks, Trifecta for the prompt, which requested an animal name be used as a verb. I figured I might as well ignore the dictionary and make my own...flightless birds have always intrigued me, anyhow.

on the surface

on the surface of the moon my feet are as light as my cares tonight but my world's just as empty and the space just as dark and the moon dust obscures the best stars in the sky so I look deep inside and I search for deeper meaning but I've been running on bingo fuel since long before we landed. the craters are only deep enough to cradle my head as I lie down to cry or fall down to die -- time will answer that riddle