i collect words, phrases, quotes, as i would shells or rocks on a beach or wildflowers along a path. sometimes i'll remember where they came from, others remain a mystery to me as to their origins. they appear in my notebooks in my hand like magic.

i will write a book. however the subject matter is alluding me. perhaps one that is fictional and yet somewhat autobiographical. it would end up a cross between something written by Marya Hornbacher and Chuck Pahluniuk. what a bastard child of a book it would be.

and then where to start? in which scene do we start the epic. there is much territory to cover. dark valleys and haunted caves to delve into. occasionally a light spring rain. much too much too much. but for entertainment purposes, grande.

this would perhaps give a method to my madness. rather than fritter away my energies on silly blog entries that no one reads anyway. but oh! that is the point. i am here and yet i am not. writing without consequence.

there's also the idea of getting a collection of poetry published. that would be easier. i have notebook upon notebook of things that with a slight tweak of editing could be brilliant. and some that are just plain brilliant.

like Paul Varjak in breakfast at tiffany's, "ok, positive statement. ringing affirmative: i am a writer."

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Last Five
treasure - Thursday, Sept. 06, 2006
need - Sunday, May. 22, 2005
where is here - Friday, May. 13, 2005
save me. - Monday, May. 09, 2005
nonsense - Sunday, May. 01, 2005

ALL