. . . and sometimes the blank page beats you.


I really hate this feeling.  It’s hell.  Not just the dreaded white space (not the good white, but the false promise white, the color of migraine white) but other things, things loosely connected.


I’m done.


No, not with that.  With a few of my inherent weaknesses.  I’m sure I’ll still hang on to all the others, for a rainy day.


More positive entry, coming soon.