Some idea of perfection still lingers, still plagues me

I can get some things elegantly right.  Some things, and some times, I can’t, and don’t.  I dwell sometimes too much on these latter.  And when I torment myself with that dwelling, I know that of the seven deadly sins, pride is the one I am most plagued with in this time of my life. Continue reading Some idea of perfection still lingers, still plagues me

Dream I had gotten ready to leave my dad’s house. We were moving, but to different places, and I wanted to double-check that I had gotten all my things. Every door, every wall was painted white, there were no pictures on any wall. The house had many doors, and most were locked. I had only one key. My dad had a set, and would not lend me his so I could check all the rooms. I checked the rooms I could—and from those, I had already removed everything of mine. I knew, or reasoned, that inside the ones I couldn’t enter..were only his things, and nothing of mine, and I could leave without further investigation or discussion. He was having conversation with his new friends, new family, in an empty kitchen downstairs, and I left without saying anything to anybody, knowing that there was nothing to go back for, nothing I was leaving behind..that was mine.

That’s actually it, for my first draft..those words cover the outline.  I’m going to take a break and continue working on this project soon, addressing the many notes I made while writing this draft!  I doubt I’ll post any more thanks for cheering me on!  Happy writing to all my writing buddies.  MT