Piles of Notes
The ideas come so fast and so often. Napkins, back of envelopes. Grocery receipts. I write them everywhere. Each day as I work on my stories, on my blogs on my comedy, I stare at them as they pile up in front of me just under and to the left of the keyboard. At times it gets overwhelming. I have so many. Must be 20 or so assorted slips of whatever piling up at this point. The more I think about doing something with all of them, the faster more new ideas come. New ideas that will likely gather dust and get stale like most of the ones I have already.
They are just piles of notes at this point. The best use of them might be to burn the whole pile and at least keep myself warm for the winter.
The ideas come so fast and so often. Napkins, back of envelopes. Grocery receipts. I write them everywhere. Each day as I work on my stories, on my blogs on my comedy, I stare at them as they pile up in front of me just under and to the left of the keyboard. At times it gets overwhelming. I have so many. Must be 20 or so assorted slips of whatever piling up at this point. The more I think about doing something with all of them, the faster more new ideas come. New ideas that will likely gather dust and get stale like most of the ones I have already.
They are just piles of notes at this point. The best use of them might be to burn the whole pile and at least keep myself warm for the winter.
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