“Rain” by Raymond Carver

Woke up this morning with
a terrific urge to lie in bed all day
and read. Fought against it for a minute.

Then looked out the window at the rain.
And gave over. Put myself entirely
in the keep of this rainy morning.

Would I live my life over again?
Make the same unforgivable mistakes?
Yes, given half a chance. Yes.


Even older than I was and I don’t know what to think about that any more.  Still a realistic optimist/optimistic realist who tends to fight the eternal procrastination that claws at my life.

Still an indie kid (at heart) and seem intent on not paying too much attention.

Don’t come here expecting great writing or profound thoughts. I tend to write about banal and mundane things but it’s written honestly and openly and (most importantly) it keeps me happy – it’s my therapy (only cheaper). I appear to still be writing so it must be working. We shall see.



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