"you remind me a lot of him, sometimes. both good salt of the earth people."

and then he told me of this writing workshop i participated in, many years ago.

as if i am old and creaky.

and he said he'd like me to be there, again. as a counselor of sorts.

he told me other people who were counselors, people i knew from high school, people who i respected.

and i feel as if i'm faking it all.

i'm currently editting this journal. we're getting in submissions that are okay, and some that are just horrible.

and im editting it because people think i have the sense enough to. they respect my opinions, i guess.

and i feel as if i'm faking it all.

i can't really write. honestly.

i just type.

and sometimes i tell the truth.

sometimes i lie.

but they're words, and they're there.