Before, if you haven’t procreated and produced a human being, your time is mostly your own and you can sit and create and not feel a bit guilty about sneaking off to throw paint around or type madly or sing with abandon. After, when you carve time out to create privately,  it’s almost like sneaking off to makeout with the bad kid from up the street: a little guilty, a little exhilarating. You also wonder if it’s actually all that wonderful or if it’s just the adrenaline running through your veins.

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3 thoughts on “

  1. You’re a good woman. This is intelligent delegation. I have been consumed by work and university and will be until about mid November. I thought, though, bearing in mind our characters, perhaps we should make a pact to write all we want to for the project in one weekend. No dilly dallying about it!

  2. Oops, sorry, shite, meant to reply to the post above. Brain not punctioning ferfectly.

  3. Heh heh. I think you’ve got the number, there. Just let it all explode and see where the pieces fall.

"... all my lovers were there with me, all my past and futures."

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