Ina room of heroine ona broomofheroin. Censorship.

Ina room of heroine ona broomofheroin.

Just jokes.

Fingers got away with me. I meant to write ….a broomof heroine.

See how we censor ourselves?  Edit.   I could also have written ….abroomofheron.  I see herons above a damn.  I mean, a dam.  Truly, I did.  And they were beautiful.  As was the heat of the day.

Freedom of expression is sometimes the first step toward censorship.

Without freedom of expression, censorship would have no legs,no feet, no fools to parlay.

In parlour games?

Parle vous sincere?

Even in this post, this small piece of writing,  I find that with every fling of the fingers (or fling of fingers)on the keyboard, I delete some letter, some word, exchange it for another.  I burst,upon occasion, with inspiration.  No, not burst.  But burgeon (please excuse my breaking my rule of despising nouns abused as verbs) with thoughts, slings and frings of words, ideas, pictures, visions, and they SHOULD come out on paper, but I don’t always put them to account on paper.

Sometimes, it is the vision of the words, not only (initial idea: ‘nor only’) the meaning coming after, the object of the vision, the impression, the fancy, that …. see, I’ve just ditched a few words in a few seconds – compel me to put them down.

Let’s not get started (first idea: ‘me started’  oh no so egotistical exclamation mark had I a key that was not broken)  – now that I have censored those fleeting words, I have forgotten what the original idea of this sentence was.


Censorship: is often the destructive twin of expression.  Censorship is like an octopus that wraps itself around the utterance, an utterance, and swallows it and shits it out in some makeshift parody of creativity, of free-flowing ideas.

Censorship is: vision stuffed in a box and booted into a black abyss toward a billabong across a paddock which I remember and you do not, but if I were not inclined to go and put the kettle on, I might take the time to tell you about.

Censorship: wastes time.

Censorship:  You decide.

I am inspired.

And question where to begin.

Putting it on paper.

You decide what I mean by the iteration of those last two sentences.

c. A Room of Heroine 2011.


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