And I’m still here.
Still plugging away.
In a metaphorical sense, anyway. I’m actually sitting at my desk right now.
In case you haven’t noticed, repetition has always been one of my favourite writing devices.
Repitition greatly influences the way I write.
I suppose repetition is my preferred method for centering a story–providing a base that I can work off of. I don’t always use it, of course, but when I do I can almost envision the string of paragraphs, words, and punctuation in orbit around a solid centre. Some orbits take the story farther away from the centre. Others bring it closer. And closer. Setting up a pattern. A shadow. An expectation for what comes next.
Sorry to disappoint you.
Sometimes, you have to break with the pattern. Or maybe the pattern breaks itself.
Is there a message here? Not really. Not intentionally, anyway. Sure, I could read something meaningful into this scatterthought–I’ve worked with less on numerous occasions.
But as I’ve said before, sometimes you just have to take things at face value, and leave well enough alone.
I still believe that.