Today was cold and grey and unspringlike; I didn't go out, I made myself dinner, I read a couple of books and a couple of scripts and worked on nothing except this story which I am still trying not to break. I don't seem to have the brain to work on anything else. I remember being able to multitask around fiction, but I suspect that was when I did not go years between completing stories. Both of the cats have been affectionate and inconvenient. I am telling myself it is not bad to have days like this.
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Active Entries
- 1: How do you love? How do you solve the etiquette?
- 2: And I'm sorry that I forgot that binders don't go in the dryer
- 3: Trying my best to arrive
- 4: And where the arrow leads, you never know
- 5: The earth is too smart for us to break through
- 6: Cigarette, Alka-Seltzer, career to the back of the place
- 7: So can we say we'll never say the classic stuff, just show it?
- 8: Did karma do you justice when you're down and out and lost?
- 9: The rose will grow on ice before we change our mind
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