'What it means' versus 'What it means to me'

You've met me and I've met you. We'll smoke out post coital cigarette and never see each other again.

This blog is about things that happen in my story, "Children running on beaches"
Not about sugar coated self-analysis of the author. If I'm a good writer, which means that I resign myself to my very own ideas and imagination, than the layers
of said self will be peeled back like a fat oninon very very naturally.

I will quote something I have written or am thinking about writing, and do a fiery
brawl into what the words mean and wrestle with the poetry. Poetry, ain't that a bitch. I love what we can see and what it means to me. But what I love the most is
the poetry without petulence, without regret, without meaning.

Every time I read it, the meanings and images change, but my characters won't.
They are classic figures sculpted from the cliffs of my mind. Cool

The next article will be something steamy and pretty unaccurate. It will focus on
what the title, "Children running on beaches", means, or what it means to me.