Hey, writer-type folks. AND PEOPLE WHO JUST WANT TO PLAY BUT DON'T IDENTIFY AS 'WRITERS' - all are welcome here! Every Friday, we do a fun free-write. For fun. And Freedom!
Write whatever you want in the 'comments' section on this blog post. Play as many times as you like. #breaktheblog! You have two minutes (give or take a few seconds ... no pressure!). Have fun. The more people who play, the more fun it is. So, tell a friend. Then send 'em here to read your 'two' and encourage them to play.
Oh, it must be awful hard to be nascent dancer, twirling through a world shattered by frailty of mind, hiding in the corners where old memories used to live. That doesn't make it any easier to watch, and it doesn't make it wrong that sometimes it all just gets you mad as hell. It's not fair. From either side. And there is never an easy answer.
When the brain foot slips, the slope is a son of a bitch. And you don't know, so - hell - now, you're a detective and a friend and a lover except you're the only one who remembers that. Right? Who the hell knows.
There are moments when there is a piercing clarity, when a rough hand wraps itself around your bird hands, and the combined strength births a kind of battlefield optimism. There is no winning the war, but there will be moments of heroism, there will be fear and there will be minor victories. You will lose ground, and you will eventually lose everything. Put up the white flag.
Bury the purple heart along with the stumbling brain.
ATTENTION, I WILL IN AND OUT MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ! Get 'em! :)