71.1° Flack of activity is mostly all there is to report—my computer decided to end it all and i have to tell you, being without one is really not such a bad way to be. there’s been no hurry to replace it, obviously.
i haven’t written anything in ages, and i miss it. i miss it.
“take a trip,” my friend roger would tell me. “you’ll start writing again.”
“where?” i would ask.
“anywhere.”
anywhere. ah, that’s a place i’ve heard of.
reclaim your inspiration from whatever made off with it.
i keep saying i will, and one day that will be. it’ll make sense eventually.
Questionable
Devious Comments
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Just Let it Be and Come What May
~Elizabeth
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Yes!! I'm a PERVERT!!
Bring me mah hombrezuelos!!
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one half of ~ZombiesAteUs
i did write a few lines a couple of days ago, but nothing complete. still, a step is a step.
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“why do writers write? because it isn't there.”
—thomas berger
“no honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing.”
—ts eliot
--
“why do writers write? because it isn't there.”
—thomas berger
“no honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing.”
—ts eliot
right about now i'd love to be in arizona. it's soooooo far away...
good luck with your slump
--
“why do writers write? because it isn't there.”
—thomas berger
“no honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing.”
—ts eliot
--
Yes!! I'm a PERVERT!!
Bring me mah hombrezuelos!!
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