The world is full of damned lies, but what you read here may be taken to any bank. (Take it to your bank and they will remember you and treat you with respect.)
Monday, June 01, 2009
the reason I don't write any more
Every writer needs a person who will stand up for them as well as to them. If you don't have that sort of relationship to provide ballast to ease your voyage through the questionable sea of words that can destroy you as easily as allow you to shoot the rapid to keener pools of prose, you will end up painted in some ugly corner of flickering fluorescent tubing. I've lost my anchor. A person whom I thought was chained to me by the gold of friendship turned out to be connected by sacrificial Zinc; an element which leaves in its own time with little notice or evidence of ever being.
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