John Blase

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Most credos I’ve read start with the words I/we believe. I won’t do that, or maybe better put, I can’t do that. My credo, if it can even be called such a thing, rides piggyback on the slithering black curved back of the lovely question mark. I don’t have many answers, but I do have questions…

  • Why is it that I live out West and love out West but I’ll always be from the South? Why am I most at ease in those in-between moments of dusk?
  • Why do I not equate talking with thinking? Why do I try to not run yellow lights, ever? Why do I prefer the words melancholy to organized and ache to closure?