Monday, September 20, 2010

Should or Shouldn’t

I should be writing, that’s what we writers do right? We take our knowledge, imagination, fantasies, or nightmares and put them into words. But really! Who wants to try and read my mixed up jambbles? Writing isn’t about putting it all down in order, it’s about just putting it down so you don’t forget it. Trust me on this, if you don’t write it down when you think of it you will forget it. Ok, so you don’t necessarily have to write it down, you can carry around a recorder and record every little thought that comes to you, but then you eventually get the strange looks from people. But, then again, I get the strange looks from people when I pull out my notebook and write something down randomly. Oh, well, the life of a writer is one of strange looks. Yes, I do believe so…  Anywho, here is a small array of my mind jambles. These just come to me and I jot them down for later.

Her eye’s were cold and stung like ice to my soul. I was in love and could never look away. The essence of her was there, I could feel it, smell it, the sweet jasmine from her garden, taste the bitter tea she once served me at her father’s table. But still, her eyes remained cold.

I live in a world of make believe, colored with crayons from your worst fantasy.

I find I enjoy my harmonious discord, angels singing out of tune, bursting your heart shaped balloons.

Today I’ll find my heart, it’s yours not mine.

Tacos are a great symbol of love, you can fill them up to over flowing, but if you’re not too gentle with them they crumble.

Beans, beans, beans. I’ve grown so tired of picking beans, but to see her standing over me. Making sure I continue my job was worth the time and boredom. The other slaves were lazy, non content as she pushed them to their limits. Oh how I longed for her to push my limits. To have her attention in any fashion or form.

“Hot dogs!!! Hot dogs should be the food of the Gods!!!” She looked at me in disgust.

“Hot dogs? Really? They’re just mounds of left over meat wrapped in gut bindings. Not, food for the Gods.”

Alas she will never know the wonderful, delicious, glory that is a hot dog.

Well, my lovelies, that is all I’m in the mood for sharing with you today. Contrary to the belief, I am neither clinically insane, or a complete shut in. I’m just a bit batty, if you know what I mean.

Don’t complain about the tings you’ve already made a change for. Geez you’re living in a life full of choices made by none other than you!!! Stop the complaining!

And I am done!


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