THE WRITER MUST EAT -> patreon.com/trn1ty <-

| \    |   | blah!
|\ | `\|\  | the rantings and ravings
|/ |(_|| | * of a depraved lunatic

<^>

2024-09-14

If you write like you're writing poetry, you're doing it wrong.
If you write like you're writing prose,  you're doing it wrong.
If you write, with your opinions,        you're doing it wrong.
If you write  with your opinions         you're doing it wrong.
If you write  in   your opinions         you're doing it wrong.
If you don't know what to write          you're doing it wrong.
If you do    know what to write          you're doing it wrong.
If you write like someone you've read    you're doing it wrong.
If you write like nobody  you've read    you're doing it wrong.
Blah blah blah.                                 Do    it wrong.

I'm stuck in a state of permanent pleasant melancholy. Autumn is my favorite
season. I've been away from Maine damn near a year and I told everyone there
I'd visit inside of six months. I think my old roommate Scott is dead. I've
been waiting for the bus here for half of forever. The wind rocks me every time
a car goes by.

<^>

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