Taking an unintentional break from really writing. Haven't written anything for months, or rather I have, but I'm in a holding pattern. I've been through reams of paper but I'm circling. What makes you write, anyway? What makes you say things? I speak in abstraction. Sometimes I write to find out whether someone's reading. I'm doing that now, and it's not good. I often think it's the condition of people my age doing the school-work-future-drink-smoke-party-fun thing to wait for something to happen. I'm waiting. We speak in abstraction. In the meantime, this poem by Kari Edwards says more than I can, so I'll leave it at that.