images are coming in to view. i confessed a story to a friend this morning.
and i made contact with another.
the usual coffee and kisses were had upon waking.
casual fantasies scurried around the empty apartment.
at the moment i cannot decide whether i prefer my factual voice, or the more obscure blogging tone.
the problem with not writing is that eventually ideas and storylines blend into one another and it becomes harder to sort through them all. this is the same with the music upon my iPod. too many options. when it comes time to choose, it just seems easier to do something else.
so we begin the random play-by-play.
this is a dull flame of desire.