Thursday, July 19, 2007

Counting cities like sleeping sheep

Why am I writing right now?
Why am I blogging?
Why am I trying (vanely) to get published?
Why am I traveling?

I'm s'pozedly traveling to give me new fodder to write about. Problem is, I'm not nearly as proficient a writer as I'd like to be. PLUS, I'm having the unfortunate habit of visiting friends, who want to spend time with me, giving me less time to spend writing.
Silly, silly friends.
PLUS, um... I'm just writing essays without any substance.
and right now, I'm just writing as a warm up.

the laptop is on my lap, as the pull down table was uncomfortable. it's heating up quickly, giving me a slight tingling sensation in my testicles. Right now, the train is stopped along the Hudson. It's gray and murky. It's raining. the trees, shrubs and grass are very green.

It's taken me a long time to get on this train. I vented to my girlfriend about the follies of my side-trip to Plattsburgh, adding the caveat that it was good to see my old friend Paul and he was glad to see me to, but the trip... the trip... argh. What's worse, the gouge of the car rental, getting lost on the way there, the ensuing speeding ticket (reduced to a warning for having an outdated address on my license) or driving back and having to wade through Albany.

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