I've failed to record anything in here for almost one month. It seems like I am one day shy of a month from my last post. And all of this lapsed time even after I told myself that I would be using this as one of my methods for getting back into the habit and practice of writing. Something written everyday just to get my mind running and moving in those directions. But didn't do that at all. And I really don't have a good reason.

Maybe there is a reason and it has to do with the catapulting of messages into the ether. I've been packing words like gunpowder into big drums and ramming them into the bottom of a 17 inch Howitzer...and then blasting them out into the distance. They fall like terrifying shrapnel on yonder entrenchments. No. Nothing destructive. It is all very productive. The words are being mined from the cavernous reaches of my mind like ore-slag and refined in blast-furnaces until a perfect iron-clad is removed from the fires to cool. Pig iron sent across from the frontier reaches and into the densely populated regions for some proper smithing. Or something like that. Something good is happening and I am writing - but like anything...like always...as always...I wonder if it is going anywhere other than toward the perpetual exchange of e-mails. Like post-modern pen pals or something. But I am gearing myself into the same rut I always gear myself into in these situations. I write, write, write myself into an open field after several days of rain and then try to hurry up and accelerate out of there.

[Can I mention that I hate sitting here at work and having to listen to the ninnies in the office? I despise them and their despicable lives. I hate their bitching, their shallow criticisms, and their all-around busy-body presence.]

So my writing gets sent off into the silicon ether in an attempt to further the slow movement toward...