Really, this is what we do.

We start new blogs under the pretense of committing to something. On occasion, that commitment is kept. Let's hope this is one of those occasions.

We make our blog titles in German because we think it makes things more interesting. Also, because we think we know German. Then, 18 months later, we go take a placement test and Yale tells us we don't...but everything happens for a reason.

We realize, partway through November, that we are not writing novels, and feel like a part of our lives is missing. And I knew, last year, that my NaNoing days were doomed to suspension because, if I could barely hit 50,000 with 80 minutes dedicated to writing every other day, there was no way I was doing it my first semester of college. And sure I was proud of all the new CWIIIers hitting their marks, but I missed being a part of the action. I still got emails from my ML, and weekly pep talks from Neil Gaiman, among others, and I felt like such a poser, especially becasue I never did finish that mangled mess that started out as me yearlong last year, despite actually working in class about 2/3 of the time.

We keep so much inside that, when it comes time to earn our keep by our trade, suddenly it all comes gushing out in a manner completely different from that of the milk on the multigrain cheerios you put in the sink the day you left, four months ago, that is is still there because it makes me think of you.

We conclude that we need writing as a creative outlet in our lives. Out of my life, I need words to make. (Syntax is the doctor of the suitcase!) So my commitment is this: I will post to this blog. I'm not going to say every week, but I don't want more than two weeks to go by in between times. My posts will be, as the title suggests, poems and things. And I'm not ruling out drafts as new posts. Drafting is what we do. Because drafting is the only way anything good will ever come of this.