Can’t trust that day


Blog post for Monday 1/24/11 – minus 8 degrees at 6:01 AM – Cold, deep brittle bone breaking cold.

I just wrote something that I really don’t like and didn’t want to write and I am not sure I want to share.

I am occasionally asked where my ideas come from.

I wish I knew where this one came from, so I could send it back.

I often talk about how things write themselves while I don’t sleep. This one certainly did. It came out of my fingers in a trance in a very short time.

I will put it up and link to it. I suggest strongly that you NOT read it. You are on your own.


Winston Churchill called it the black dog. It’s not one you pet and give a cookie to.

link to 2:22

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About James Rising

A recovering radio addict wrestles with the written word.
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