There is no way that the words will ever be just right, so I might as well just write. And write and write until I just bleed the perfection right out of my fingertips.

I hold too many enoughs to the light in my life...strong enough wise enough pretty enough different enough that I will likely never be satisfied with anything and before I know it my whole life will have breezed right past me and then I won't have lived enough. Can't you see me shaking my fist at God with my puny little fierce indignation over the fact that I somehow worried my life away?

Writing is who I am. And because I take it so personally I literarily cut myself off at the knees because it means so much to me that it can't be wrong. I just can't mess it up. Sometimes everything else is wrong and when the writing is wrong it just hurts too damn much. Sometimes words, music, they are what I cling to what makes sense to me they are what I have to turn to. It might all be in my head and I accept that but there have been few constants in my life and words have been one of them.

I know that I am rambling but I don't care because this is for me to look back on and use to guide my life. I looke back on things that I wrote three years ago, and I was amazed...