so.....
Both Danielle and Sara have recently commented on the fact that I haven't written so much as a cave hieroglyphic in over a month.


Now the time has come to speak.
I was not able....
And water through a rusted pipe
could make the sense that I do.

Gurgle and mutter
hiss and stutter
moan, the words
like
water
rush foam and choke

Having waited this long
of a winter
I fear I only
croak and sigh...


every once in a while I find some desperate wisp of something that I foolishly believe (and often prematurely classify) to be the true next step in my own personal Something/Anything?....(for those of you who have the misfortune not to be Rundgrenheads, this can be translated as the publicly-perceived masterpiece that reveals itself in time to be a stone around the artist's creative neck.....)....and then of course, these false starts reveal themselves to be the teasing frauds they are and, well...
end result: this journal has more than a few unfinished stories in it.


I had a kind of moment a little while ago, though. but rather than try to parlay it into something, I thought it worth noting for its one glaring difference to related occurences of recent months.

I have acknowledged that I am not feeling teribly inspired/creatve etc etc what have you...but I cant say ive really FELT it, you know....that's whats different, and im choosing to see that as a good sign.

once upon a time, there was lightning in my sky.

I am/have always been irratio-phobically afraid of real lightning, by the way--chew on THAT, all you symbolists out there.

I remember the lightning. its not something one really forgets.

it has been a very long time, however, since ive MISSED it.

this has to be a good thing...right?


Right?


Somewhere deep within
Hear the creak
that lets the tale begin...