KiD CuDi- Love Stoned Lyrics on Screen HD

It has bothered me - how much I write, but how little of it makes it to a post here. My blog bespeaks a neglect I don't always hear - I let it merge into background noise - but I can feel it - looming clutter loomclutter. I have, before, more than once, made a foggy half promise to myself to post more often - and set a number of times per week or month that seemed reasonable to me - but then ... ... ...

SO

I write this post to myself because I have an intuitive sense that it is somehow important for me to say this aloud in a way that matters, as my relationship with myself matters much more than my old habits within seemed able to acknowledge.

9 posts in 9 days.

Seems challenging but not ridiculous and I like the number 9 - it is 3, 3's. Good enough reason for me. It doesn't matter, Lori. Open a notebook randomly and post a part of a sentence there, if you want. Or a long chaotic verse - the kind my Pop described as getting on a bus where the driver won't say where you're going; he takes you on a detour to the moon and you finally end up 3 blocks down the street at a convenience store. Well.

SO

I wouldn't make a very good bus driver. I forgive myself for this - and also for bearing little resemblance to Earnest Hemmingway ... ... ... Maybe NO resemblance at all. And after the 9 days? An epiphany or transformation or ... back to the conspicuous absence? Dunno. "After" is not the point. There is no point. "The goal is to keep the goal the goal (Dan John)." I'm just gonna keep getting on the bus - I'm not the one who "drives" my writing, to begin. And if I have to go to the store down the street, I'd prefer to include the moon.