let me be

“dear god,” she prayed,

“let me be something every minute of every hour of my life.

let me be gay;
let me be sad.
let me be cold;
let me be warm.
let me be hungry
have too much to eat. let me be

men into blocks

if you take a flat map

and move wooden blocks upon it strategically,
the thing looks well, the blocks behave as they should.

the science of war is moving live men like blocks.
and getting the blocks into place at a fixed moment.

but it takes time to mold your men into blocks

and flat maps turn into country where creeks and gullies
hamper your wooden squares.

they stick in the brush,
they are tired and rest, they straggle after ripe blackberries,
and you cannot lift them up in your hand [and] move them. men into blocks

HOW TO BE A WRITER: 10 TIPS FROM REBECCA SOLNIT

because i love writing & tips & mostly, rebecca solnit

1) write. there is no substitute. write what you most passionately want to write, not blogs, posts, tweets or all the disposable bubblewrap in which modern life is cushioned. but start small: write a good sentence, then a good paragraph, and don’t be dreaming about writing the great american novel or what you’ll wear at the awards ceremony because that’s not what writing’s about or how you get there from here. the road is made entirely out of words. write a lot. maybe at the outset you’ll be like a toddler—the terrible twos are partly about being frustrated because you’re smarter than your motor skills or your mouth, you want to color the picture, ask for the toy, and you’re bumbling, incoherent and no one gets it, but it’s not only time that gets the kid onward to more sophistication and skill, it’s effort and practice. write bad stuff because the road to good writing is made out of words and not all of them are well-arranged words.
HOW TO BE A WRITER: 10 TIPS FROM REBECCA SOLNIT

you will eat

you will eat,
you will laugh at stupid things,
you will stay up all night just to see what it feels like,
you will fall painfully in love,
you will have babies of your own,
you will doubt and regret and yearn and keep a secret.
you will get old and decrepit,
and you will die,
exhausted from all that living.

that is when you get to die.

not now.