Writing break. Working on my novel. Slowly getting rid of much of my writing that’s on the internet. This site in a month will look different. I’m a book writer. It’s about time I do just that, not release full material until I’m done. It was a good stage of my life. There have been so many. This is how this blog started. I’m still at it. Soon I’ll close it down. I’ll come back and it will be simple. Just post videos quick updates, work on it as a source to go to for people who like books and writers.
At night. This night. I went for a walk. The sirens get to me. It’s ok. It’s just too much sometimes. Now. Back in the mines. Working on novel. See the sunrise. Working for people doing maintenance of the computer and simple auto kind. Living life. Accepting loss forever. Working as easy as I can. Go back to the beginning but move the beginning into the future. Start over wiser. Advice is good. It’s different for everyone. Ready to let go of my novel. Finish off flask of gin and let that go too. Ready to write easy about the shadows of life. The bookstores and the people who still fix typewriters. The people who work with their hands. The people who keep this possible. The smells and the people who don’t know me, but who have raised me more than they even know. Easy going. True. I’ll slip up once in a while with the new way of being, but life is a stuttered dance. Focus on writing and not a character, in time, but not now, because still, the novel is me. I think this explains what I’m trying to say…
One thought on “Fall Notebook page 11”
Its good. Tight. Sharp. “Life is a stuttered dance” :-) Beckett-esque