It’s funny that I made this blog. It’s funny what I wrote yesterday, and weighing the sum of what I’ve written. Thirteen posts. Two expressing some vague desire. Eleven strung together with cloying, half-written sentimentalities. I guess. I wouldn’t say the whole thing. I’m just going back and generalising.

And now this, number fourteen. Well. We’re getting somewhere, anyway.

I write about what I write, I write about what I don’t write– for me it’s a constant theme. I’ve noticed. You must be in the agony I (seem to) be.

Do you think this blog needs an overhaul? It does, of course, but maybe it’s partly about responding to colour-space themes. How can I write what I’ve expressed my desire to write when it’s subverted by this sterile blog theme?

haha, I know, I know, I know, I know: I laugh! It’s just a theory.

One Comment

  1. I like when you write about writing or the act of non-writing. It’s very tao. I also like the white tabula rasa.

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