weird…

don’t force…

but…

just…

o.k. …..

its knowing when to walk away…

away….

yes…leave it alone…let it be…

you’ve learned this…

yea…too many times… over and over and over….

keep making this mistake….

that’s the mark of insanity…

yes…same result…same crazy results over and over and over….

so…I learned to walk away…sometimes…sometimes….

and then it comes to you…

sure…or…something completely different…you never planned…

that’s when its best…

yes…no maps…diagrams…don’t design it ….she’ll come to you….

or not…

or not….

and then…

next story…next poem… lyric…but you have to walk away…

gotcha…

has to breath…this same mistake…choking her to death…what’d is getcha….

what ’bout discipline…writing when there’s nothing there…

how do you do that…really…how…

that’s part of the craft…

no…that’s an assembly line…k….that’s soulless…..

think…

when you make love…do you storyboard every move ahead of time…perhaps a plotted orgasm…tickling tits at the exact time…

well…

poor girl….poor fucking girl….shame on you…and what comes from that…

writing and fucking are two different things…..

really….you think…

has ta’…..

right…and this is the problem….no writing…romance…spontaneous fucking…

I…

it is gone…left along time ago…walked out the door in backpacks carried by Ginsberg…Kerouac….Bukowski…and that old man at the bar who no-one’s seen for years…you want a planned out piece of writing….type-up insurance forms….cashback guarantees….recording contracts….right…

‘spose…

mmm….’spose…gotta go….

lift…

walk…gonna walk…

weird this time ah night….

yes…yes….I like weird….

 

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