02.13.2006 - 12:32 p.m.

I need to get back to writing here. Real entries, too, not just the blurby stuff I've been putting up so far this year.

I want to change my subject matter across the board. I am bored with the old topics--headaches, insomnia, little moments of nostalgia, dreams--it even bores me to reread them. This is unacceptable. I cannot call myself a writer unless I actually write.

Every life recycles its own problems, I know that. I will procrastinate until the day I die, I will start a million projects and not finish them, I will fail to earn what I could, and at some point in my life, there will be more years done than I feel like I have left. There will be dreams I will know I can't realize. Ambition of the imagination only gets you so far.

I am terrified of missing out on the good stuff because I 'wasn't ready yet,' of never being published because I never feel done editing, of never saying the truth because I think I know how it will be taken.

I have been editing poems this week, trying to get a few into shape for a reading I was asked to submit to. I will make it, because my poems are better than most of the ones that got in last year. I just wonder if I will turn them in on time, and whether I'll be proud, or just mad at myself for not sending them to a real magazine or something.

I found my wedding dress this week.

Also, tomorrow is Valentine's day. I'll bet you my left arm he hasn't a clue. But then, I've done nothing about it either.

-stonebridge

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