Eaten words, new ones, an idea…

That’s messed up, man. I wrote somethhing, I really did – four, maybe five paragraphs long, mostly about how I was writing just out of guilt – and it ATE it! Heh… mambe it’s punishing me for NOT writing for three days for making me write something else – and maybe shit like that is why people are going over to TWITTER, ya ever think about that, evil post losiing WordPress, HUH???

Seriously though – thinking of starting a fictitious story (somewhat) of a guy who loves the road , needs to get on it, so he starts creating his own travels in his mind, bordering on believing them – it will be a twitter/blog combo, everyfing posted to the site ~ ~ ~ ~ I’m loving the development of this idea – something newdifferent where 2.0 is an active part of it… – oh,  needs to get working on the site, but need to fix my starter so I can MOVE this beast – and I need my goddamned disability check, STAT.

And I need an internet connection thaat WORKS.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ahhh, back at the Cafe. Interweb slow but swingin’, elixir of life being slid down the throat, and back at work. I have some new things I would like to do, but they take time & patience – & I only have one of those at a time these days. Don’t ask me what that means, but it sounds right – sounds like it makes sense, at least.

Actually right now, I don;t have either. So many things floating around in my head that I want to do, on top of those, crushing, are the things I need to do, both on the site and off the computer – like another Dr. Appt. thata I need to be at in 1.5 hrs.

One thing. One thing at a time, and eventually I will get there – where I’m satisfied with the site enough that I can stop screwing with it, where I’m on schedule with the interviews I need to edit & do – but that, that is the tough one, as I know they can always be better, always have much more attractive editing – IF I have the time, and as a result, the patience.

Well hell, I’m going to post this now, prepare for the next one instead of have this continue on endlessly in its way…

But I wrote something, wrote again, and although it was tragically mundane – it can be that way, and leave options open to come back with a different voice, one that is still tucked away somewhere inside, one that is so much more than its words – it is an entirely different way of seeing the world around me… when the magick is back.

Which came first, the magick or the language of it?

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