June 15th, 2016

Wednesday, 15 June 2016

“One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.” Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I was unsure if I'd write anything today.

It's not that I'm lost for words -- hell, no -- but I'm not sure how meaningful or valuable it is for me to keep sharing my daily angst.

I'm not looking for sympathy, comments or direction. All I need do is write something. That's enough. But more than that I need to feel it.

Yeh, I know that sounds crap, but it's true. I need to feel my writing, as opposed to being in execution mode all the time.

I'm reading Steven Pressfield's latest book. I'm loving it. But then I knew I would. Actually, I don't need to read it. I know everything I need to know, or enough at least, to write. And to keep on writing.

Well, another day of office stuff awaits. I can hardly contain myself.


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