As I drove home in the dark tonight, I had a little time to think, which is always dangerous. Along the way I had two trains of thought which I felt would make interesting subjects for a post, interesting to me at least. The first thought was based on two accusations of cowardice which were leveled at me earlier, and the second in the fine
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But one can get carried away with trying to preserve the past, and forget to leave time for new things to happen. I have a friend who writes in her journal for about four hours a day. I can not begin to imagine that her life is that interesting. At times I become convinced that she must just be writing about writing:
"Movin' the pen. I'm movin' the pen. And breathing. And still movin' the pen...ooh, I coughed! An action sequence!"
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