Learnin' The Blues (Louis Armstrong & Ella Fitzgerald)

My life's been full of luck and love.
And all that jazz.

Stories on Stories on Stories

There once was a time I wrote stories

There once was a time I wrote books

There once was a time I wrote everyday

There once was a time I wrote a diary

There once was a time I wrote songs

There once was a time I wrote songs in German

There once was a time I wrote love songs in German

And let me tell you this:

Writing love songs in German, is a big deal.

A real challenge.

Not because it's impossible, because almost everyone thinks it's impossible.

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I have been thinking about starting a new series of blogs lately.

About all the parallel universes I believe that I exist.

A blog on my "if I had" and "if I had not"s.

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Lately all I have been writing about in my free-writing assignments is concerned with my incompetence in my new life.

I moved to a big city from a equally big city.

So you'd think I'd be fine. But I am not.

Because in the big city I came from, I spent three years establishing me.

Making me.

And now I have to do it all again.

I am strong.

I am strong.

I am strong.

But nobody is that strong.

Or maybe some people are.

How would I know?

If there is anything I know about me, it is that I do not know shit about shit.

But that's all right.

Because I am, strong.

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DB thinks I know things.

He sees that I know things, because he thinks I see things.

He doesn't say that to me.

Therefore I do not have to admit that I do not know shit about shit.

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There were times in my life when I wrote poems.

I wrote shitty poems.

I wrote cheesy romantic poems.

I wrote far-too-sad poems.

I wrote meaningless poems.

I wrote poems.

Multiple.

I probably have written a hundred too.

None of which was brilliant.

Some sentimental to me.

But I wrote a hundred poems.

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I miss not-doubting me.

I miss being certain.

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I make things happen.

I make things happen.

I create.

I love.

I believe.

I fall in despair.

I pull myself up.

I stay strong.

I make things happen.

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I love it when people say "Shed".

Here I go to shed a little.

Goodbye.

Monkey Man

Break.





End of break.