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.
Open Bracket, Closed Bracket.
I don’t want to be fenced in. Literally or metaphorically. I don’t want you telling me where to stand or what the barriers are. I’ll just try to climb out and find a place less confining. That’s me, undermining. And I understand that your intentions may be good, but let’s not be misunderstood. You have an agenda or I wouldn’t be braced and bracketed, lectured and straight-jacketed.
Don’t tell me the barrier is there for my protection.
Can’t you just open things up a little bit? Can’t you just give one tiny little shit? Or admit. That I might know something and that we might be able to govern ourselves with a little guidance. We’re pretty astute.
Keep me out of your cattle chute.
I like ellipses. Lots of freedom there. You can go damn near anywhere. Brackets? They lock you in and the walls get thin and you start thinking … where did it all begin? I’ve got my beginning. I’ve got my end. But it isn’t providing any insights and, lord knows, I try to listen.
I try to keep things open and keep the ellipses flowing. But the bracket police are always right around the corner. Get back inside where you belong! But I want to smell the wildflowers, how can that be wrong?
I’m going to stop using periods. Every sentence will end with those three beautiful dots – every action open to interpretation and extended periods of thought. You can keep your brackets. You may be selling, but I can’t be bought.
The silence after the music stops…
It’s quieter than everything you’ve ever heard before. It’s more than silence. Because there’s no noise, but there are also ideas and colors and pictures shooting through your brain like crazy bees. Sometimes, they hide epiphanies. If you’re open to it, you can pull out a symphony.
Because I’m all about extending that song and that silence. I’ll keep it going and going. Until the next song starts and sometimes even after that. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, and that’s why I like it so much.
Some people start talking right when a song ends, and it drives me crazy. I want to say, “hey man, you’re missing the best part.” But I know you’ll just say that the best part is done. The song is over. And I can talk for hours about those few silent pulses after the last chord rings out. I’m not going to be able to convince you. And I don’t have the energy to try.
Go ahead and talk over the end – I’ll just start at the beginning and play the whole thing again. Call me stubborn; I’ve been called worse. And I know some people understand. You can see them everywhere you go. They get that thoughtful look on a shy-smiling face. And you just know. They’re in that place.
That silence after the music stops.
#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...