A Look 10/22/09

A Look 10/15/09

A Look 9/26/09

Too much.

A Look 9/25/09

It’s late. I have a race tomorrow. Sleep.

A Look 9/21/09

This is doing wonders for my ability to know the date.

Black Board

Scrawling on a whiteboard hidden in the dark,
my thoughts once again on creation rather than destruction.

I still can’t comprehend why.
Why do I say these things?

Let me explain:

I enjoyed a film that day, surrounded by popcorn, siblings,
and darkness.
However corny I thought it was that the boy in this particular story
(and many others)
was worried that the last his mother would hear of him would be
“I hate you!”,
and however sure I was that goblins were not, in fact, coming to eat me and my family
(despite years of achluophobia’s teachings),
it still meant something to me then, that night,
trapped in my room not by fantastical creatures but by my own mind,
that the last thing I had said to you was,
“You’re not being logical, or fair, or, or, anything!”
Those lines echoed in my mind for hours -
and still do, etching themselves into my mind.
Because really
on a figurative level

(that’s the one that really matters, in case you’d forgotten)

they mean the same thing.

Author’s note: Some writing I did last night, on a white board (a white board that is now black because I wrote all over it, ergo title).