Excerpts From A Fractured Mind

For better or for worse, my Watery Grave Invitational story, went out today after a final read through. We'll see what happens. I have mixed feelings about it, honestly. I usually do about pretty much everything I write, so that's nothing new.

However, what really struck me this time as I waited for that little attachment bar is how strange it actually feels when you send something out. I'd never really thought about it before. All these conflicting emotions: excitement, fear, pride, relief, apathy, worry...

It's one of those moments I don't think they really talk about in creative writing courses or how-to books.

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Anyone else think China "not" hacking Google has anything do with all the problems people have had with Blogger and Gmail?

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I really appreciate everyone's thoughts and well wishes on yesterday's post. I do, I really do. I don't share those type of things often. Despite being here on Blogger, over on Facebook, and showing up on Twitter, I've really never been a social butterfly. I tend to keep things to myself.

But, at the risk of starting a trend or giving away too much of my politics/religion/philosophy/code--it's nice to be reminded that we are, in fact, all in this together.

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A Noiseless Patient Spider
Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

A NOISELESS, patient spider,
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them. 

And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,

Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them;

Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold;

Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.