Title (optional)
So instead of getting out a notebook I switch to WriteRoom, hoping that this time words will come. I stare at the blinking cursor, the soothing black on white, the…
No. This time I won’t get stuck in trying to describe the moment, I won’t get distracted into turning on the webcam trying to make this into something more than words.
I won’t even tell you where I am or what I should be doing instead of writing this. Yeah, I guess by now you’ve figured out that this is just one of many false starts.
But yet again I find myself at a loss of words. There are so many things I could be writing, so many strange nooks and weird turns of thought that …
Maybe I should tell you something about myself, try to explain… something. Instead it’s just all these false starts.
I wish I could stop time.
