an old sore

a long-time friend, did something only long-time, interwoven yet impaling congeniality can do... sent me a link to this musty blog. she could instead have summoned brutus.

dog (y)eared link

i abashedly revive an old sore with honest incisions. i revive the feeling of eviscerating discontent when i am at the writing desk. only equaled in pain from the poverty of what i write. i feel muggle-born in a world filled with magicians of prose.

i wish i was humpty-dumpty, who reminds alice in this fondest work of fiction Alice in Wonderland,

"When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean, nothing more and nothing less "

in the least, the surgical incisions will lay me bare. towards that unbearable lightness of being.