i am still awestruck daily by the sheer beauty of the california landscape. my life has no lack of inspiration. it's all around me. speaking to me from the endless sky; in the comedy of the human experience. my experiences. gold. debauchery embraced, intensity level 8, when i lived to offend...
point is. i've no lack of things to write about. problem is... i dont. write that is.
why? im not sure. i blog so that i write. writing anything is good. but then it becomes a time thing. which is total bullshit. i sure make time for sex... things i really want to do, i make time for.
why is it so hard for me to be still? to close the door and write. something that i love to do.
ive said for years that work saps my creativity. and i see the decline in my blog posts.
and ive this burning desire to spill out some lovely, cruel stories before i forget them.
id welcome any suggestions. i used to love to drink and write. more excuses i guess.
i know i just have to close the door. but this is hard when your time is spent 2 places.
sigh. when all else fails.......f e a r ~ fuck everyting and run
