Somedays, words have meaning. On other days, not so much. I feel like I should be more tethered to words than I am, but I can't seem to help it any. Sometimes they come, sometimes they don't, sometimes they leave anyway. That's a lot of probability for something that requires dedication, right?
Despite all of my directionless endeavors though, writing is one endeavor I have spent plenty of half-assed years with. Words don't always make sense, but they're always there. Regardless if I take them seriously, find myself with any talent stringing them together, or simply get used to them, they are, and always have been, defining.
