My usual writing posse had plans last night, so I decided to show up at Starbucks and write by myself. Being a horribly undisciplined writer, I didn't get much done. I wasn't on the list, and the coworkers I invited didn't show up, and the list had 17 people on it. I tried sitting in "my" seat in the bull pen and working on a new parady kind of song, but I couldn't concentrate. I ended up splitting out early (which I don't like doing) and trying some work on my website. Since the Internet was down (again) at my place, I wasn't able to make any major changes.
I'm walking down the line the that divides me somewhere in my mind,
on the borderline of the edge and where I walk alone.