Man, I wish the editing fairy had visited me this morning.

The author wakes up to find the pages on the floor were written by someone else, they HAD to be, though you are the only one there. (If Mr. King hasn't written that one yet, wake me in time for the yuletide box set.)

Ever come upon a box of writing of your own, that you had forgotten about, that upon reading, fucking impressed you so much the recognition you had written it yourself was lost out of entertainment and envy?
The context, approach, even vocabulary was completely different. Of course, there were a million things I wanted to change. I had recently tried to retype an old paper to blog and could not get through it without making changes. That's kind of the beauty of it - you see the mistakes and/or yourself from a futuristic as well as basic juvenile corrections, and only because you want to change it to make it better. A little refreshing, that everyday shit can get real fucking bad,
and I will still say "you fool" to the glory days -
out of knowledge.

I am not saying I typed the great American novel, cause that's next year. Anyone who reads understands style. When there was a short period of JayC's top ten things, I knew immediately what was written by Joel, and a couple others because of that.
It's just a very interesting process to like something I did awhile back and not even remember the voice or words that created it.
And I'm gonna steal like hell from it! (Man, Dan Forgerty could have lost that case, if I had been working for the prosecution.)

I would hope that even this and a much later accidental stumbling upon the woman that wrote blogs, will possibly remind me of a chick I still like,
but still want to edit.

goodnight, everyone