I spent today reviewing work, editing, moving stuff around and reading reading reading.

There was a lot of ‘yes, no, maybe’ happening while I read through different pieces. I carried on this way for a few hours and then felt a bit ick about the whole thing.

It’s a mysterious process blog family. I don’t really understand writing something and then trying to decide whether or not it’s ‘good enough’ to publish or if I should edit it.

I only know a handful of other Writers, none of who I interact with regularly. So I’m not really sure what motivates or inspires other artists of words. The best thing that I’ve learned thus far through operation blog is that what attracts me the most about writing is introducing it to other people as a way to make sense of our mysterious world.

I wrote this poem a few minutes ago. It made me feel better after a day of bafflement. Talking in paragraphs is hard today… I think it’s because I’m still adjusting to the whole no booze and smokes thing…

stomping with the left shoe on the right foot

there was
an ocular composition.
seaweed eyes.
deep green recollections.
backward thoughts
where you walked
beside. next to how
sense forms
around me. surrounded.
waking
from stirred sleep
into an embrace of
i remember.
how the width of…
you’re back.
your shoulders.
you’re going
to say i told you
so… like…
the time
moving
counter-clockwise.
is it possible?
i mean reverse
circles. returning
to a hushed beginning.
fresh environments
where seeds rise
toward light.
and we
touched
past
desire.