sometimes i write, with a passion. it seems as though everything is cut like a diamond. with a complete picture in my head. something so profound that i feel i just must share it.
then i reread it. having spent some time away from the subject matter in my poor little noggin. to forget some of the details. to objectify it, if only a little. and often i find out i was so in my own head that the resulting product is patchy, convoluted, disconnected and vague at best. it’s funny how that works. don’t get me wrong, it doesn’t diminish the initial profundity i ascribed to it, but it just makes me laugh.