(B). The first writing I posted. Where the adventure started. ha! I mean picked up. Thats my sword, an old letter opener. I also have pens that I call knifes. ha. anyway...read where I started bleeding my art, my friend, my foe, my teacher, my eyes, my fiction and kinda fiction, dreams and mares, my… Continue reading (B)
Tag: art
He’s dead. (I think)
Who's there? Nobody. Just my thoughts. WAKE UP. Ok, I'm up. Stretch, some toast and oats and milk, and standing, writing, and WAKE UP. I'm up. What time is it? It's right now. What's the score? Huh? How do you feel? My back hurts from so many days sitting down. Alive? Yes, I guess. … Continue reading He’s dead. (I think)
(C)
(C) See what I’m talking about. My hands are shaking. I walked home. Somebody pulled over on the side of the road. Asked me where Southern is. They were looking for some liquor store. I didn’t have a clue what he was saying. I couldn’t understand him. He was slurring his words, almost if he… Continue reading (C)
Starting to form some kind of journalistic itinerary
Starting to form some kind of journalistic itinerary.
So you want to be a writer, Writing Thoughts by Dead writers, Charles Bukowski , #3(Words and audio)
(Slightly different format) if it doesn't come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don't do it. unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don't do it. if you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screen or hunched over your typewriter… Continue reading So you want to be a writer, Writing Thoughts by Dead writers, Charles Bukowski , #3(Words and audio)
Adventures In American Writing 