I set an alarm for this time with the idea that i’d be drunker that I am. That I’d add to a platform that I planned out the day before. Perfect for a weekend post!
I thought I’d fill those expectations, those fodder for the marketing material.
Guess I fooled both of us, eh?
I’m sitting on a porch. A massive maple tree is casting a silhouette on the sky that I wish my skills as a writer could describe because it’s god damn gorgeous.
The moon is half a moon, half space. Fireflies are attacking my vision and I love their assault.
I’m not sober and I love the atmosphere that my reality is offfering.
I will be back.
And I love my time apart.
When I tried writing them, what I produced always fell flat. This was my first canyon/valley in my writing. Getting over the delta between experienced beauty and the ability to transpose even some of it onto this medium.
maybe this is hitting at what we were talking about in that speaking piece
Although nowadays... now that I have a daily practice habit, I actually don't get bummed out about this conversion rate. I've gotten used to it, and even have taken a proactive approach to it rather than a bickering victim one.
As in, I look at the conversion rate and go hmmm.. well how can I write so that I can transfer more... That's all about getting familiar with the craft and actually making it work for you rather than romanticizing the art and never getting anything done.