The reason I don't have a blog.

As it turns out, I cannot write. At least not prose. I have a myriad ideas swirling around, like the carnations that got fed to sheep in Gaza instead of going to lovers in Israel, and wondering why we all don't have big internet parties once a year and meet all our dear friends who live inside our computers, and why we don't do more to help adolescent girls develop self-confidence instead of modeling themselves after pop stars, and why can't I just be good friends with President Ahmadinejad? and does anyone else sometimes lay around trying to see that swirly lacy stuff floating on our eyeballs? ( I know Annie Dillard has) ....should we embrace our emotions or try to control them, and is there a way for me to let go of preconceived ideas about gender relations and just treat people as individuals?

However - all I end up cranking out are small poems that try to communicate either my happiness at being able to enjoy the day, or my anguish over all the things that need to be fixed, in my scant opinion, but are impossible to heal.

See...case in point. This entry is disjointed and could easily be turned into a nice little poem.