wine + introspection

I am drinking wine on my porch and reading a book of short stories by Banana Yoshimoto.

I look at the cover and think for the 20th time what a stupid name Banana is, even if it is Japanese.

I think about how I could write better short stories, ones that capture the essence of the time and the feeling of the author, not this weird psuedo fake mystical bullshit I am reading.

I remind myself that I am not only unpublished but I am also empty  of a portfolio consisting of anything that would be consiered a story, short or otherwise.\

But I have a lot of great ideas.

Really, I do.  I can't necessarily put them into a book, I can't concentrate long enough to focus on the type of words and construction that would make a story work or be somewhat readable or interesting.  i do however have a lot of desire to sit around a beach house, drink wine, and pontificate.  That should count for something.

You know what stephen king?  fuck you.