My Demise

Just after moving into The Cuilinn House I had hoped that Internet access would be a breeze. It’s been anything but. Like every other promise that has presented itself with pretty wrapping paper and bow, it comes with contingencies. It doesn’t always work. So I post when I can and write less often than I should.

It is for those concerned of my demise that I be more diligent regarding publishing daily. Although I got ‘F’s in high school English, passing only by getting ‘A’s as a photographer on Year Book and Newspaper staff, I now consider myself a writer, and a writer writes every day. One day, I may take a class. But for now, I thinks of things to write in this blog every day. Sometimes I think they’re just to everyday to write about. Sometimes I’m afraid to write. Sometimes there’s a particular post that I’m working on in my head that I wont publish until I’m ready to let it go. I have four right now that I’d like to get off my chest that haven’t been committed to bits: She, Angel, Redneck Robert, and The Last 4th Step Workshop: The Absent Enemy. I also have a lengthy profile to complete, so it’s not for lack of material nor pot that this sot sought.

I really do appreciate the concern expressed in comments, but it is not for you that I write this blog. Once, in jail, I had a terribly strong urge to drink while in solitary confinement for 23 hours and, being that I had only the guards over a tinny intercom to speak to, knew that it’s was going to be a long lonely night. That’s when I discovered one way to stop the urge: write. And it’s worked ever since. The other reasons I now journal are but a plus, and I am grateful for the interest, however when I’ve got The Angry Reds, you’ll know why I’m writing that day.

I am truly grateful for the concern and with that I will post nearly everyday.

Without Wax,