Here’s the deal, here’s the thing: I’m working on it. I even kinda like working on it. (The novel, I mean) Sorta. Sometimes. My mind wanders like a free-range chicken, then comes back to roost again. Sometimes I think I’m writing too much of the same thing. Sometimes, I don’t know anything. But that seems to work.
Last week, I fell really far behind.
There’s a reason. I mean, kind of a weird and interesting reason. It could be a plot-twist in a fantabulous story, or a foot-note on the term paper of life. I donno yet. All I’m sayin’ is, there’s a reason.
Things are weird… interesting weird this November. I’m… awake. I’m… alive. Do you think you can bring about *movement* at least, in life, through anticipation?
I so looked forward to November. To the end of October, really. And now here we are in this drizzly yet beautiful month. (Woot, Obama!) It’s never been my favorite, November, but I gave it a chance this year-
and I gotta say,
I noticed when the cop pulled me over (the light was technically yellow till I got half-way through the intersection, dammit) that the beautiful soft, misty purple over the bay in Taft was just as lovely tonight as it was last Saturday. And I need to see it with a camera, darnit. Not that *I* can capture beauty like that, but..
You gotta see it.
Am I babbling? Are these words coming in a chirping stream?
Tonight was beautiful, and I have high hopes for tomorrow, too. If you’re listening, mr. solo, communicate. I have shit I need to say.
Talk to me before tomorrow. Something’s tucked tall and charming into tomorrow.
Tomorrow is a brand new day.