NaNoWriMo has stolen my time. Blogs, twitters, six sentences and random poetry written on napkins and cocktail coasters will be on hiatus until December. I think. I suspect I will enter a realm of insanity where my every breath is punctuated by internal dialog fighting to reach the cursor that is my weapon of wordage. My wife, my life will be rife with strife as I seek that which eludes me now.
Save me oh muse de mio, infuse me, amuse me, please don't refuse me.
I wanna write but writings hard.
someone send me a sympathy card.
What can I say, What can I do
to make this story run through?
I want to write but writings hard.
Someone send me a traveling Bard.
Where should it go, how do I know
is it the high road or the low?
OK, so enough cry baby blues
I gotta go pay my writing dues
I trust you my mighty muse
with you I cannot lose.