Monday, October 11, 2010


I’m sitting here at my computer again, typing my life out in poetry.  Only this time it’s for corrections that someone else feels isn’t exactly right.  Most of it, I guess, is right, but still… I can’t help but feel self righteous about it.  Who is this person to tell me that I couldn’t possibly feel discolored about the lack of color in a cloud?  I’m trying really hard, plus on top of that I’ve still got a lot to write still  and I want to continue with my fairy tale. I could say book, but I’m still not sure if it will be that long or that good.  But it seems that my imagination, feelings, thoughts, have all just left me.  I feel mentally brain dead.  My guess is writer’s block…. NOOOOOOOOO!  But, it’s true, not only is there no feelings coming through in my poetry, I can’t get the words to flow right, they don’t connect in my head.  It’s all lost in this jungle of my mind.  I feel like Sponge Bob, when Squidward told him to forget everything but fine dining.  Then Squillim asks for his name, panic, utter panic.!  I guess I could do research on Brittany, France.  But, my lack of imagination would lead me to research what exactly?  I think I need a small hiatus.


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