jazz kiddin'

I am kidding myself, of course, semi-believing that it is possible to post everyday and still make sense or style. My postings of late remind me of when I'm swimming a lap and am so very tired already that there's no more concern for grace or form, only the determination to touch the tiles at the end pool, never mind if the arm strokes are artless and the head coming up for breath half chokes on the water that enters along with the air.

Everyday I plan to say my farewells, good bye, dear reader, no I am not tired of writing, only that other responsibilities demand much attention for the moment, I shall be back when there's more time to be deep and thoughtful and relevant. But then again, even a leave from posting would not guarantee that I shall be all that when I return.

So here I am still, filling yet another page, like the swimmer who believes some serious lung power is going to be built from persevering, a weblogger who imagines writing muscles are flexed by writing.