EVERY LINE SPLINTERS (# 74,948)

Within every line you’ll ever write, one word will shout halt, if only momentarily and question its role in the sentence. This plants doubt in your mind. Deep doubt. Doubt about the truth of the line first born into your brain. Then the train has left the station and seized or worse still derailed. You don’t even know the destination and the journey feels pointless. But still it chugs on as blogs do in the slight chance they will be read and fed. But that lifeline is short. You are past the stroke and slipping into full coma wondering if you’ll ever feel that  surge again when the fingers cannot stop dancing their disco tits off.

December 1, 2009
Filed Under Writing on writing 

Comments

Leave a Reply