wordsuntold

When I am writing, the words are pure nonsence, there is little to no prexisting motive, plans. I am sitting here at the edge of my seat- er blanket, watching passively as these words these fragments these tiny puzzle pieces weave their selves together into a bigger thing, a little ragged incomplete defective little quilt. I want to make that quilt a high-class, luxury comforter, but I do not know how...