there's room enough for disillusionment -- I sent packing the track record and kept forwarding the fan mail but it's a neverfail nevermind that pays no heed to the left behind gardens hardening in the sun with unstrung cucumbers and peaches out of sort or season -- I see no reason to carry on but I feel a strong sense of runaway moving in like a swimmer's ache at the look of the sea, like an hourglass full of jam and a riptide that just won't tear: I know there's somewhere to be going but I'm sure I can't tell where --
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justme
side note
While this blog's original purpose was to keep myself honest in my practice of doing daily justwrites-- 10-minute freewrites from some unusual starting points-- it has meandered to occasionally include other sorts of writing, to address other goals, and to even include other authors. Now, its main function is as a sort of verbal/ thought outcropping in public view. These are not polished pieces, and most are completely rough drafts. As some pieces may be developed through revision, your comments are most appreciated.
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