Saturday, September 11, 2004


let me tell you something; i once had a dream in which i encountered a floating tree, hovering above the ground. and when i awoke i was fully inspired to write a story about trees suddenly breaking free of the ground and flying away, everywhere... only it didn't turn out to have a plot which i could find easilly, and so the unfinished creature is still resting in one of my folders, half-done and in notes... i was quite firey about it for a short while; sometimes fire exhausts me after a few days... and now it's a number of years since i started writing it, and i see it's 9-11-- which was the metaphorical significance, i thought, of the tree's flight, and i am remembering the story again, though i am no wiser as to how it ends. i get reminded every year around this time, of that story and that i haven't finished it. my mind is a strange forest.


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