In an impressive show of onomatopoeia
the cold has snapped once more, and
I am whole again.
The sun redeems itself, and warms to suit,
instead of to swelter.
Everything is crisp. The leaves. The air. The wind.
My mind is set racing...it wants to escape from
months of languid summer crawling. Nothing
moves in the heat.
I find that I can write again...that I can breathe again.
How I love autumn.
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'We literary hacks are shameless creatures. I believe there's no secret of the human heart into which we wouldn't pry.'
'IS THERE NO WAY OUT OF THE MIND?' A DISCUSSION OF:
Floating.
Heather.
- I used to be Snow White...but I drifted.
Emmilou
"Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter! Life's candy and the sun's a ball o' butter! Don't bring around a cloud! Don't rain on my parade! Don't tell me not to fly, I've simply got to! If someone takes a spill it's me and not you! Who told you you're allowed? Don't rain on my parade!"
Exhausted Topics.
- 'Trigger'.
- 'Winter'.
- 'Red'.
- 'Keyboards'.
- 'Iron'.
- 'Spring Cleaning'.
- 'Luck'.
- 'I ache...'
- 'Reflection'.
- 'Hiatus'.
- 'Autumn'.
- 'Fair'.
- 'Heat.'
- 'Splinters'. January 24 - January 31.
- 'Obsession'. December 28 - January 23.
- 'Birthday'. December 15 - December 27.
- 'Tissues'. November 24 - December 14.
- 'Revenge'. November 17 - November 23.
- 'Blackouts'. November 10 - November 16.
- 'Commitment'. November 2 - November 9.
- 'Walls'. October 29 - November 1.
- 'Doubt'. October 13 - October 28.
- 'Ch-ch-changes'. September 28 - October 12.
- 'Keys'. September 21 - September 27.
- 'Drifting'. September 14 - September 20.
- 'Light'. September 8 - September 13.
- 'Language'. August 31 - September 7.
- 'Disguise'. August 24 - August 30.
- 'Vice'. August 17 - August 23.
- 'Public Transport'. August 10 - August 16.
- 'Surprise'. August 4- August 9.
- 'Death'. July 30 - August 3.
A Room with a View.
'We literary hacks are shameless creatures. I believe there's no secret of the human heart into which we wouldn't pry.'
The Blind Assassin.
‘Why is it we want so badly to memorialise ourselves? Even when we're still alive. We wish to assert our existence, like dogs peeing on fire hydrants.We put on display our..photographs, our..diplomas..we monogram our linen, we carve our names on trees, we scrawl them on washroom walls. It's all the same impulse. What do we hope from it? Applause, envy, respect? Or simply attention, of any kind we can get? At the very least we want a witness. We can’t stand the idea of our own voices falling silent finally, like a radio running down.’
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