On practice
Forgive this sounding like a lecture.
You write because you are suppposed to.
I have a crashing headache. My bed beckons, and yet I write.
For what purpose?
Practice.
Probably doesn't make perfect, but at least the form has been worked, the mind exercised, and one or two evil spirits driven away.
The cats though, remain.
That's another story though, for another day.
The keyboard just isn't standing still.
No wait- that's my head.
You write because you are suppposed to.
I have a crashing headache. My bed beckons, and yet I write.
For what purpose?
Practice.
Probably doesn't make perfect, but at least the form has been worked, the mind exercised, and one or two evil spirits driven away.
The cats though, remain.
That's another story though, for another day.
The keyboard just isn't standing still.
No wait- that's my head.
posted by Tim Hillman at 7:20 PM
1 Comments:
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! -.- you agrivate me with each new post! I yearn to learn of these cat tales and still you avoid going into details. (sigh) I don't want to have to spend my days translating Laura's work for the rest of my life
<(T.T)>
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