surrounded in the francais schoolboys like I, chase through stone corridors in jest pass tank topped bread makers and rum runners filling dark sacks who was I to speak to the going-ons of this foreign land take me instead to the countryside in an hour less a half share with me tales let me sip wine and pretend that I am a man
I received a comment on my blog this morning that was left on yesterday’s entry. It not only blew me away, but it also hyper-spaced me down memory lane. It was from an old friend of mine from my childhood. Scratch that, an old best friend of mine, and boy did it instantly put a smile on my face. I literally laughed out loud when I saw the handle that this person had used to post the comment. As you WordPress users already know, comments on your blog are sometimes left there by fellow bloggers, but sometimes they are left from email followers. I pretty much know all my email followers personally as they are mostly friends, family, and the odd coworker past and present. This person though, I believe has been visiting my blog for some time now and has finally made me aware of it in a very subtle way. Well, at least I’m 99.9% sure it is. I mean, it has to be. There is only a few living souls that I know on the face of this earth that would know the legend of the “Wolverine Gull”. (Dramatic voice)
I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read, and all the friends I want to see. – John Burroughs
Where were the tears that day? Our loss must have voided my heart. Each time I taunted with emotion, my soul would squeeze even tighter. Then, past a wet wind’s gale. I saw your empty face. It was the key that finally broke me. So…I ran to the salty sea. Broke free from this ransom. Until my sorrows let. Forever with the ocean my secret.
I sat one day.
Alone, on a palette chair.
Sit in spatters and their quiet stories.
Did watch as pebbles danced in entertain.
For granted, I was easily led.
So naive that tomorrow won’t go away.
It was a peace that drunk me.
There, emotion could never touch.
Strange was any voice of hurt.
All this in a moment.
Oh, how I miss counting out-loud with the rain,
a grey big sky with a smile…and
…my ignorant heart.
I have sat in front of this blinking cursor for far too long now and to tell you the truth, I’ve had enough. Once again, I find myself in a creative tug-of-war with my writing. I have yet to determine if it’s just another round of writers’ block or if some real life fallout has become too much of a distraction lately. I’d be inclined to go with the latter but I really don’t know what it is, could be a combination of both. What I do know for sure, is that I’m getting this post out of me one way or another. Yes, I have be still updating my journal entries, but it’s been how long now since I have done a good ol’ Ash entry? Continue reading “Fight for the Write”→