White Rabbits

“The first words you say for
a lucky month are ·White Rabbits.·
If you can remember to say that twelve times
a year, you·ll have a very lucky year..”


July 1, 2002. Monday.

Canada Day

Awards are given for time served, but there should be more to it shouldn’t there?

Last July was no better, but as life spins its cycles like the dervish it appears to be, some of the very same things I spoke of in that single entry last year have just come to pass once again. Funny how life has a way of repeating the question until you give the appropriate response.

I suppose the big question is do I deserve to have this site as a crutch for my ailing writing urges, do I belong here? Is this sporadic output enough for me to claim rights as a writer, a poet or a journaller? Is putting in the time, regardless of output sufficient to earn admission into the circle of creative minds that is the journalling community?

And do I care?

“reminding me that stagnation is only a breath away from death itself…”

Hmmm… a little strong maybe but then again I was never one to shy from excess.