jphergan

I like to write at night when it's quiet. Especially in winter. Right now I'm procrastinating, considering, over-considerig a chapter that will just flow when I put my pen to paper. But I'm distracted, having a hard time focusing tonight. I might write a poem, but that'll leave me with a poem, not the chapter I want. My heart is divided between two projects. One, a book, about a summer I spent in a tent. The other, a romance with poetry and no ending yet. I keep hearing Je t'adore. Maybe I'll write the poem.

Well, I'm still trying to figure out the ins and outs of this. So little time. Time for bed after a lot of writing. Here's something I just wrote: I ask questions, she answers But it leaves me teased like a schoolboy Graced by the smile of love's first gesture Wanting more, and more and all. I smile too, like a schoolboy Shy and uncertain, but brazen and bold As though caution were an invention of fools. And it is such a thing, caution The poor excuse of the living dead And so living, I tell my distant love That she is never far, always near On my mind, in my heart, and the nerves of my flesh Screams to hold her, rough, and dear

I thought I already did this. I'm a newb, sue me. I write at night, from maybe 10 until sunrise. It's quiet and still and it works for me, so I go with it. Before I write though, I usually play a little. Tonight's agenda: cabernet, Dead Kennedys, Palehead, and Radiohead. Gotta get the blood flowing a little before I try to sit still for so long.