Monday, January 17, 2011

Black is dark

Another day has passed. Daylight appeared. Birds probably flew out of their nest. Cars drove out of their driveway, clouds have rolled in the sky, then daylight decreased, cars returned and night settled in and I haven't seen any of it.
No, I haven't.
Writing. Writing. Writing. Still at the love part. Still improving.
Lots to improve.
Grips of excitement running through my veins.
I will not cease, will not rest until I am done, until it is complete, until I am complete.


  1. do you feel more complete when you write?

  2. I feel satisfaction sieving out of me when I do so yes ( not always do) but I think like most writers, there is a part in us that feels unfinished unless we have said that we had to say. Sometimes it only takes a book, sometimes it takes a lifetime.