Just for me:

it's really just for me, writing, allowing any thought to follow it's path to page without restriction or censorship, a creative expression of what's occurring now, and my wish to lend myself to its process. There is no higher meaning to these words, nothing offered but a moment shared between us. But perhaps there is a truth told - anything I write is an honest account of the moment committed to it's writing, sincere, and pure in its intent. 

what I write belongs only to its moment.

so it's changeable, fluid, and I don't hold myself accountable for anything written in the past - at least not in any sense of being true to a previous belief, nor entertaining ideas intriguing at one time. I write what's present, a snapshot of my mind, and then leave the page behind. What's true isn't the words, nor is it told in any philosophy, but the moment itself, so open, creative, and fulfilling in its purpose of allowing ideas to flow, words given room to play, and the space remaining when all this passes - that's the only truth that's found, and the only point with meaning. 

this is just for me, and yet I appreciate it's sharing, that moment of writing extends to anyone who later finds it. That's the real fluid nature of creativity, it's the infinite touch of all that's come before, shaped again through some unique fashion, and released once more to its expression. I am grateful for my moment in its hold. 

~

Peace, Eric