Thursday, January 6, 2011

Thinking Poetic, Blinking So Skeptic

My Friday, today.  After an Exchange of Ideas with Mom and Dad, I realize I need to be more true to Self, more candid, but with coin same, more marketable, appealing.  The balance.  How to such walk, unsure.  Still solving the everlasting Literary equation.  Rereading the first issue of "vinoLitLetterz."  One half of the author screeches, “Proofread!  Rewrite!” Its antithesis, “Remain same.” I’m without acumen, apprised of little in futures.  
Wish I had a typewriter instead of a monstrous laptop with internet access.  Wouldn’t be checking my social media accounts.  Was talking to my buddy Stacey about this very crossroad, this morning, at Starbucks.  I know, Starbucks.  I’m always at Starbucks.  Always with a Mocha.  Its contents embolden, impressively.  Almost wishing I had one now.  But, I guess this Malbec will do.  Kelly, my character, need Literary consultation from you.  Only you.  The sitting, these keys, puppeteering me, gloriously.  Should be reading right now.  But it’s my Friday.  Is that a good excuse?  Sip, sip...
10:26p.  Not even close to my night’s cap.  This is my Friday, night.  This Malbec, subtle, sexy, sumptuously slithery.  Off to write outside the blog, for an actual page.  Thinking that I may close mikeslognoblog at the end of this new year.  Why?  I want total focus, confinement, on and to the page.  An actual page, to maintain my integrity, just as Mom and Dad tonight urged.  For them, my most unfeigned, fervid, pillars, my gracious life guardians...sip, sip...

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