errata ad infinitum

i haven't even begun to write, haven't once challenged this empty page...still there are already errors. grammatical, typographical, contextual....errors in intent, errors in judgement, inelegant choice of font, gutter, spacing...notenoughwhitespace or perhaps t o   o m   u c      h.

always there are errors, more than we'll likely admit. but the errors tell the real tale. the errors reveal the truth. a lifetime of errata, compiled, notated, filed away...this is the real life, this is how we live, these mistakes that shape and define us. care not for the intent. intent is vanity, intent is unsure perception, script not acted, words not chosen, thoughts not coalesced...these things are intent, these gossamer phantasms that would cloak all that is real.


intent has been slowing me lately. i forget how to write, how to think without constraint, without convention. in an effort to stir the fetid waters of my mind i'll be creating here, in the round as it were, as frequently as reality permits. i always did love an audience. watch, don't watch...just so long as i have the impression that there's someone out there....another pair of eyes, someone to validate that i do, in fact, exist.