Mercygraft of course being a ruse brought in as a catalyst to shock shake shuffle my ability to write anything

Yesterday sitting at the dining room table while drinking a few beers (a Mich Light can and a Coors Light bottle and a Sam Adams Oktoberfest bottle) and with a football game playing quietly and mainly ignored on the TV in the kitchen and with Jackson my black German Shepherd dog sprawled on the wood floor on his green dog bed just to my left I sat at the IBM laptop PC (at only 256MB so slooooow to boot up) and went through every page of this blog via its archives, copying and pasting out the bits and chunks and fits and starts and sketches of narrative. (Tent Trailer and They Know Me Everywhere and Jacob Beizart and others. I'd link to them but the hell with it) anyway I pasted them into Word files, the job now of course being to go back, flesh them out, develop them further, finish them

why bother to relate all this in this manner. I don't know. I feel awkward telling it. this blog has over the past few years been kind of a put on, kind of a tribute to just how juvenile I can be, trying to convince myself that I'm cool, so maybe I'm just trying to push it more toward something more of a bullshit exemption zone and a daily excuse to get started writing

note to self: what might work is to use Page 313 to capture random phrases and bits of imagery and character sketches and whatnot. like I did on this blog at the first part of this year.

the real key however is to do the real writing offline so that I might develop it in a secure environment. maybe post an excerpt or two here and there, somewhere in here.

(I find it hard exposing these dull thoughts here in such dullardly fashion but fuck it. but wouldn't you know after all this now I'm starting to feel like wishing to really bust out some lines about the pink gold glow of the brightening sky this morning walking down in the chilly morning the slope of long private driveway of the rehabilitation center where the sky opens up, walking past the 19th century post lanterns which I said reminded me of some old park like in Paris [I was thinking of A Moveable Feast] and J. said that they reminder her of The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, which I thought was great)