Old Blogs clutter the internet like feigned attempts at diaries. I remember being a kid and being surprisingly intrigued by the idea of a diary, a personal memoir to hold and keep and NEVER let anyone else see. AND each would begin with a few entries and never be touched again. It wasn’t until I hit high school that the concept took off, old marble notebooks filled with writing and scribbles and countless illustrations of impossible things. NOW that is a memory, and like other memories its faded and tinted with sepia toned glasses, the color of nostalgia. THINGS used to mean so much, every thought had weight, every dream had prospects and purpose, now ALL I want is to be able to write again. WRITE in the feverish way that made me great, that sickly strength of words that made my work soar and my poetry truly worthwhile. SO I keep opening diaries, I keep writing the first page and hope for the second, and the third, and onward until FOREVER…
:) keep writing
ReplyDelete