Following the Holloway


It is possible that if I had my druthers, this post would be five hundred words long about sore tits.  Apologies for the language, but that’s what they are, a pair of croquet balls that wouldn’t flinch if we took a mallet to them.  I might, but these stones would be entirely unbothered.  Ah, yes, I won’t inflict that upon you.  Clue has it as just about the right time for this sort of expected suffering, even if for whatever reason, this suffering feels excessive this time around.

No, I won’t run on and on about that.  Though I could.

Instead, I might just mention that I read today about Steinbeck and his journals written alongside The Grapes of Wrath and how even he, that most highly-regarded of American authors struggled to bring himself to the mat of creative endeavor.  To be good enough to harness his intent and bring it forth in literary form.  To know what might be and what could be and to fight against all of that self-doubt to generate the pages necessary to discover the proof.

So, I do find myself going back and forth as to the necessity of this blog.  I want to use this time, this project and blog, in some way that benefits me tangibly and maybe that’s asking far too much.  It’s just this undressed meat on the slab.  It’s just days upon days upon days of talk, so much to be sluiced out for what might be gold – fool’s or not.

I have all of this material, I have all these stories in various stages of completion, I have all of this intention and goodwill that’s been frittered away.  And I have this question.  What do you want to do with your life?

I want to write.  But there is a map between here and there that is something other than just putting words down.  I am putting words down.  I need to finish. I need nothing more than to finish.

As for other news, well, I feel as though the RP situation remains befuddling…in a good way, in a fine enough way, in a way that I do not need much more control over than that which I currently have.  If it isn’t tonight, maybe it will be tomorrow, if it’s not tomorrow, then maybe a few months from now, I have so many other things to worry about.

Other things such as the job where I floated the idea to my mentor of quitting the non-profit and just job searching while I took a few extra hours at the shop.  It’s not, I guess, the best idea.  It’s a dangerous one, especially when can’t know for sure that the new job will come.  If it was going to be easy, it would have already been resolved.  She is fine with me choosing whatever I choose, so is non-profit boss, but everything has its consequences.

I am trying to have some conversations that convince me to get off of dead-center. I’m trying to corral some hope.



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