I’ve been writing, though you wouldn’t know this because I haven’t been keeping up with this journal. It doesn’t matter. I don’t really see myself focusing on it too much in the coming year. And damn, how is the year not over yet? I don’t foresee 2011 being any better than 2010, but as long as I don’t die, it will be a success. Then again, it all depends how I die, if I should die. I started writing The Poet of Boroughs, Texas a few nights ago. It’s coming along great, working on no notes because they’ve pretty much been burned or thrown away. Instinct, my friend. That’s what I’m writing with. Of course, it sucks. What story doesn’t suck the first time…