Journal

Having nothing better at the airport to do yesterday except drink $6 beers and gab with single women at airport bars, I picked up a nice notebook in which I can document my thoughts, feelings, observations. I may be a bit depressed, and I may know why, so I want to capture these moods...at least at the end of the day or at the beginning of the day.

This will be no well-thought out, cleanly edited work; it will be a cold, hard look at the way things are...in my head, in my heart, from my perch. No one else will read it, unless I decide I am ready to transcribe elements for "the novel."

The problem is, I am a bad journal writer...have never been able to write a consistent journal. Ever. Blogging, sure! A poem here or there, of course. But never something so private, or so honest.

We shall see...