Well, I’ve certainly dumped a lot of stuff here over the last couple of days! It’s such a weird thing to take out all this writing and look it over to see what is fit to be seen, what has holes and raggedy, fraying bits around the edges, and what is compeletely moth-eaten and useless. It’s an interesting way to run through my life, out of sequence to be sure, but interesting (maybe more so because it’s all out of sequence, and you know I’m random like that).
I have Martin to thank for posting all of this (hope you enjoy all the new goodies). Kinda feel like I owe you, love since you’ve brought forth so much of your own stuff. There will be more, my pretties. I have books and books full of poetry and in time, I’ll have some of the little stories I’ve done.
I often wonder why I don’t journal. I just can’t seem to do it. It’s such a chore for me to sit down every day or other day and write about … stuff. But I love to write, so why can’t I do it? I have no good answer for that but what I found going through my writing is that this is how I journal. And maybe I’m no good at the other stuff because I don’t like capturing the details of what I think. When I read through my poetry, I don’t necessarily remember exactly what I was doing or wearing or where I was sitting, standing or lying when I wrote but I remember where I was.
That current of feeling is still there. That moment in my heart echoes within me. I can trace all of my feelings about all kinds of things through my writing. In some pieces I can hear how old I was but in others I don’t hear that at all.
… I’m not sure I have a direction here. Just interesting thoughts as I was putting together my stuff. And I’m so very grateful to you guys for coming here, reading a bit and letting me know what you think. 🙂