Voodoo Child v. 16: it doesn't have to be eternal to be immortal.

Okay, so I owed you some numbers. Poetry. Yes.

24.

I'm a little embarassed, actually. I set such a high goal for myself. 50. But alas, it wasn't to be. Poetry happens to be a wonderful form of expression, and I just couldn't bring myself to crank out shit poems for the sake of a deadline. I am going to definitely continue my writing as I go through the days. It was wonderful to settle into a practice of writing before bed, after the day's events came and went, contemplating everything.

But March, my friends is the month of photography. I wish, however, that I remembered that. I haven't taken a picture yet. I will have to bring my camera with me to work and everywhere else I go for the next few days. I am going to organize a slide show for you when I'm done. That means I'll have to get out of the house, won't it. Great.

I am looking forward to picking up more creative forms as I go along. Now if only I could remember what I was going to do next.

Ah wait, 25 including the Fag Hag's Lament.

Okay I feel better. thanks Sammy.

Voodoo