Don't you just hate it when you try to write something, or maybe you're trying to describe a picture or a vision you have with words, and you can't seem to complete the thought? That's what I have today, at least 2 or 3 new works that I started, but they just don't sound right and they aren't coming close to the way my visions say they should sound.

Some days this is so hard. It's what makes the successful days worthwhile.

Which usually means loud music in the headphones and wine. Tonight is a cheap but good Chardonnay.

But what that usually means is that, with everything so loud as to drown out my thoughts, nothing is getting written tonight. That's why I could never do mediation. I try to be silent and let my mind breathe, but then 20 years of thoughts and questions come roaring in, and I need something to overpower the madness. Or call it "hoopla", whatever term you wish to use.

I was emo before there was a name for it...LOL!

I really want to write the most elaborate, thought-provoking, and intriguing poems and short stories. I want them to have meaning, sometimes even more than one. I want them to be critical works of art, that break new ground or start conversation about the current world social order.

And yet sometimes, I just want to rant one line at a time. Or just use excessive farce in a poetry-like setting.

I wonder if Edgar Allen Poe ever thought that.

I sense tonight is a good night to sit down with a nice bottle, and let my mind wander on various things. I have these ideas I want to see in poetic form. I have this short, one-scene play in my head I've wanted to write down for some time now. It's time to clear my head and do what I love to do without distractions.

Or tonight could just bring another block which would lead to depression and lack of accomplishment. And that would suck.

Time to let it flow...

It took about a month, but I'm finally getting around to all those little notes and ideas I jotted down, some just a few words strung together, from my New York trip in September. This is not the "New York" everyone assumes when one says that. This is the beautiful land far north of the city, with dairy farms, cornfields, and vineyards. This is the one with valleys and hills, forests and lakes. This is the New York I grew up in, the one I now truly regret leaving some 16 years ago. It has been far too long. Soon, I will return to my Promised Land, hopefully to live there forever more in happiness and love.

So, let the words flow forth, so that they may be collected together. Hmmm, that sounded a little too biblical...