argh-matey

oh my gosh. my fingers are like jelly. it's been such a long time since i've let myself write. but it's great to be back getting my sea legs again. damn land lovers ruining my romance with the big blue yonder... the frosted white page; where the ink is smeared by my knuckles and the hours it takes to slave over the slow dripping words. to write. to be written. words are water beading and dripping from my cupped hands. I drink them and wash my face with them. i ride them on my ship muse. Her name is Imagination and we've been apart for far too long. far far too long.