I write like I swim. I can't go far.
August 18th, 2014, 4pm
It was 19.4°C with few clouds. The breeze was brisk.
I can’t hold my breath too long. My instructor says I don’t use my legs correctly, I almost power strictly from my arms— and definitely when I kick off the wall when jumping in. At least I jumped in, but have to go back to where I started. When I write, images to the words formulate, but don’t get very far. I work with the premise, it goes as far as the imagination. Like a train, I need to add some cars. The fear of swimming(real). The fear of writing past a line or two.
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