Friday 7 April 2006

Corny Corny Corndog

Everything I write this week turns out sounding corny.

At work:
Reports.
Assessments.
Opinions.
Letters.
Representations.

At home:
Poetry.
5-Minute Fiction.
Thoughts.
Ramblings.
Rantings.

Lock away the paper and pens.
Password protect all the desktops and laptops.
Destroy all evidence that I was here.

I'm just going to sit here quietly in the corner and not touch a thing.
I have cramps.
And writer's block.

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