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Taken with Polaroid I-Zone

I read some of Lynda Barry's "One Hundred Demons" again last night. God I love those stories. Common Scents is my favourite, followed by The Aswang, followed by Resilience. Or maybe it's "Resilience" first. It depends.


Oh wait... duh... I completely forgot the reason why I started reading the book again. The last story "Lost and Found" is about writing:

"Lost. Somewhere around puberty. Ability to make up stories. Happiness depends on it. Please write."

I got a lump in my throat when I read that passage. I know exactly when writing was lost to me. I was 17. I left home and my big stack of writing was lost in the move. I didn't write like that again. Was I a good writer then? I have no idea. All I know is that I felt confident about it. That's all that matters really. I'm trying now but the whole exercise is one gigantic freak out. Writing is definitely one of my demons.

What you see and read here.
2003 a human