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.
The grass tickles your neck and you tell yourself again that it's not ants and to chill the fuck out. You came here to relax, so do it. And that means you gotta stop thinking about being chill. Stop thinking. Watch the cloud spirits whip the sky into an imagination playground. Look for shapes, don't think about the grass-tickle ants - ants don't hurt you anyway.
What hurts is the collective insanity. That's what they were calling it, but it seemed too easy of an explanation. Insanity can be charming. Certain kinds of it. Or it can be intriguing. This? What can you call it? There may be a word for it, but you don't know it. A shade of sadness so dark it can shroud the world.
God, if there's a word for it, you don't even want to know it. It must be heavy. The kind of word that sits in your brain, daring you to speak it. The kind of word you can never speak because it will change the shape of your mouth, the shape of your heart. Just look at the goddamn clouds. Unclench your fists. Relax your jaw.
Try to walk yourself through being human.
BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ! Get 'em! :)
#2minutesgo Tweet it! Share it! Shout it from the top of the shack you live in! I will be out most of the day, but I'll be back...