skubala

so i read back through a few of the more recent posts here and would like to say «blech». i am not going to unpost them b/c that is lame. they is what they is. it's just that they is skubala. that's right - i said it skubala. not in the sense that i don't own the thoughts, but rather in the sense that the thoughts are just slapped on the page like so much digested sauerkraut.

take the reuben sammich - or, better yet: the turkey reub - a nice dark seeded rye touched with a wee bit o' spicey mustard then layered with a loose mound of thinly sliced turkey and topped with a generous portion of kraut. there. turkey reub. now, eat the reub and a few hours later it's sitting in your potty no longer recognizable as a reub.

and, that's what's going on here, see? all these great thoughts & concepts & ideas are flowing around inside my head so beautiful in their completeness. i grab a hold of some of them and gnaw on them and digest them and wahlah - out they come!

skubala.

the discipline of writing daily is worthless if wasted.

.must. .do. .better.