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.
You can make as much noise as you want, fly your banners high - up where birds and pollutants have quaint cocktails in the sky. You can be a bright orange sunburst, a snippet of melody - you can be a summer evening, dotted with firefly glow. You can be one continuous scream.
Trees drop their leaves, and that makes sense. They don't have drawers or hangers - they don't know how to fold. You? They've been teaching you how to fold your whole life. Maybe you just aren't doing it right.
Every so often you get a chance to sit back, relax, kick your shoes off - do you? Feel the pebbles beneath your feet? It's not a hard thing to do, but it is a choice. Sometimes, you open the right door and sometimes you open the wrong door. Sometimes, it's unintentional. Sometimes, you open the wrong door on purpose.
Now shut up, get in the tiny car. This ain't that kind of circus.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
#2minutesgo
Friday, November 20, 2015
Friday, November 13, 2015
2 Minutes. Go!
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 cold slips in through the cracks in the window; it drips from the ceiling and the drops send shivers through your body. This is not natural, you think, looking at thin skin on old hands - feeling bad for yourself. Were you always this thin-skinned? No, there was a time when the cold was a friend. The cold brought clouds of morning breath and ... what's the word Mother always used ... vitality.
You are not vital. It's a cruel thing to think about yourself, but it slips in like the wind and you can't stop it. Might as well try and stop gravity. Might as well try and stop people from living in little bubbles, clutching small devices that transport them somewhere, but do not keep their hands warm.
You have no use for the mirror now. There is no one you know who lives in there - the mirror shows you a halloween prank, and it is past Halloween. You know it. Just like you know why it's hard to stay warm lately. Every dog has his day. Mother always said that, too.
And your dog died about a week later.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
#2minutesgo
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 cold slips in through the cracks in the window; it drips from the ceiling and the drops send shivers through your body. This is not natural, you think, looking at thin skin on old hands - feeling bad for yourself. Were you always this thin-skinned? No, there was a time when the cold was a friend. The cold brought clouds of morning breath and ... what's the word Mother always used ... vitality.
You are not vital. It's a cruel thing to think about yourself, but it slips in like the wind and you can't stop it. Might as well try and stop gravity. Might as well try and stop people from living in little bubbles, clutching small devices that transport them somewhere, but do not keep their hands warm.
You have no use for the mirror now. There is no one you know who lives in there - the mirror shows you a halloween prank, and it is past Halloween. You know it. Just like you know why it's hard to stay warm lately. Every dog has his day. Mother always said that, too.
And your dog died about a week later.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
#2minutesgo
Friday, November 6, 2015
2 Minutes. Go!
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.
He rested, head on fist on elbow, in a slice of moonlight - a bright ray through the damp Autumn night. His hands were filthy, nails torn. Around him, there were holes. He had used his hands to make those holes and, still, he had found nothing. He knew it was there, though, and he would not stop.
His black suit was covered in dirt and clay, but he didn't care. His brother was in the ground now, but he would not think about it. He pounced on another patch of bleak scrub grass and dug in with his nails. He was this close to using his teeth. He needed to keep digging.
It was morning, and there were holes everywhere, when he finally found it. The coffee can was just as he remembered and, inside, he found his brother. Just like he knew he would.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
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.
He rested, head on fist on elbow, in a slice of moonlight - a bright ray through the damp Autumn night. His hands were filthy, nails torn. Around him, there were holes. He had used his hands to make those holes and, still, he had found nothing. He knew it was there, though, and he would not stop.
His black suit was covered in dirt and clay, but he didn't care. His brother was in the ground now, but he would not think about it. He pounced on another patch of bleak scrub grass and dug in with his nails. He was this close to using his teeth. He needed to keep digging.
It was morning, and there were holes everywhere, when he finally found it. The coffee can was just as he remembered and, inside, he found his brother. Just like he knew he would.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
Friday, October 30, 2015
2 Minutes. Go!
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.
Cast yourself into redundancy and see what you catch. Could be just about anything - you never know until you try. That's how fishing works. Well, actually, there's more to it than that. But the frogs don't care to explain it, and I won't either.
You may think to yourself, shit, if I stare at this navel any longer it's gonna have to be dry-docked. That's reflection, see? Not the kind you find in bathroom mirrors. The important kind.
You take two sticks and rub them together. You don't stop until the smoke starts, hell bent for leather. And, then, you can sit back and watch the whole world collapse. It doesn't matter anymore, see? You aren't as important as you'd like to be.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
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.
Cast yourself into redundancy and see what you catch. Could be just about anything - you never know until you try. That's how fishing works. Well, actually, there's more to it than that. But the frogs don't care to explain it, and I won't either.
You may think to yourself, shit, if I stare at this navel any longer it's gonna have to be dry-docked. That's reflection, see? Not the kind you find in bathroom mirrors. The important kind.
You take two sticks and rub them together. You don't stop until the smoke starts, hell bent for leather. And, then, you can sit back and watch the whole world collapse. It doesn't matter anymore, see? You aren't as important as you'd like to be.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
Friday, October 23, 2015
2 Minutes. Go!
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.
You start with the memory of a feeling - a hot shame that reaches so deeply you can feel it tearing at your muscle fibers. Why can't you remember the good feelings? You can sometimes, but they're not important. The pain. The pain teaches. Blame human evolution.
So, you can put yourself right back there. Any time you want - any time the masochistic urge strikes or you've run out of new wrongs to right. And, it could be argued, that every story in the world still lives in that time-worn auditorium.
It wasn't anything you did. That's the part that never stops being unfair - the part that is like a thorn in your eyeball. Things had been going well. In an instant, everything was different, and the permanence of the change was almost tangible. You clenched your teeth and, in some part of your mind, you thought, "someday this will all be a memory."
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
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.
You start with the memory of a feeling - a hot shame that reaches so deeply you can feel it tearing at your muscle fibers. Why can't you remember the good feelings? You can sometimes, but they're not important. The pain. The pain teaches. Blame human evolution.
So, you can put yourself right back there. Any time you want - any time the masochistic urge strikes or you've run out of new wrongs to right. And, it could be argued, that every story in the world still lives in that time-worn auditorium.
It wasn't anything you did. That's the part that never stops being unfair - the part that is like a thorn in your eyeball. Things had been going well. In an instant, everything was different, and the permanence of the change was almost tangible. You clenched your teeth and, in some part of your mind, you thought, "someday this will all be a memory."
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
Friday, October 16, 2015
2 Minutes. Go!
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.
You can't stop once you've started. Momentum. It's like Sisyphus lost his grip and now he's chasing that boulder, screaming wildcat curses. Gotta get the boulder back. And all the while, he's trailing this fear-sweat smell that never leaves. Gotta get up that hill, brother. Maybe someone got it on video. Maybe you'll go viral.
You never know about these things. Some kids are born with the taste of silver in their mouths. Some kids get stuck with a plastic Spork. But the important thing to remember, the real ace in this pile, is that it doesn't matter where the boulder is. That's what no one seems to get. It's not about the boulder.
Time is a weird pacemaker. Inconsistent. Fickle. There are boulders all around us. Some are small and some are huge, but Sisyphus don't never change. He's clomping his way left and right now, but it's still part of the grind. And, though he may not realize it, he might be nothing without that struggle.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
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.
You can't stop once you've started. Momentum. It's like Sisyphus lost his grip and now he's chasing that boulder, screaming wildcat curses. Gotta get the boulder back. And all the while, he's trailing this fear-sweat smell that never leaves. Gotta get up that hill, brother. Maybe someone got it on video. Maybe you'll go viral.
You never know about these things. Some kids are born with the taste of silver in their mouths. Some kids get stuck with a plastic Spork. But the important thing to remember, the real ace in this pile, is that it doesn't matter where the boulder is. That's what no one seems to get. It's not about the boulder.
Time is a weird pacemaker. Inconsistent. Fickle. There are boulders all around us. Some are small and some are huge, but Sisyphus don't never change. He's clomping his way left and right now, but it's still part of the grind. And, though he may not realize it, he might be nothing without that struggle.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ WHEN I GET HOME! Get 'em! :)
Friday, October 9, 2015
2 Minutes. Go!
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.
Don't let them catch ya slipping, boy. They're slick like oil, and they got teeth so white it scares the moon. You'll start looking at them teeth, and then you'll think how ugly your teeth must be. While you're gumming your assessment, they'll go in for the kill. They'll think you won't see it coming because of the soft music, the incense blossoms.
You gotta keep your guard up is what I'm saying. They'll slip it right in through your ear and then you'll never be free. You'll be on the old radio all the time. And they don't say normal shit. You don't want to know the things they say to me.
Are you even paying attention? I'll slap you if I have to. I don't want to. Hate to slap a dead man, but the blood's got me skeeved, and the ear whistle's blowing. Blow, blow, blow the man down. Now, get up and fight. There's plenty of blood in a full grown man.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ TOMORROW! Get 'em!
#2minutesgo
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.
Don't let them catch ya slipping, boy. They're slick like oil, and they got teeth so white it scares the moon. You'll start looking at them teeth, and then you'll think how ugly your teeth must be. While you're gumming your assessment, they'll go in for the kill. They'll think you won't see it coming because of the soft music, the incense blossoms.
You gotta keep your guard up is what I'm saying. They'll slip it right in through your ear and then you'll never be free. You'll be on the old radio all the time. And they don't say normal shit. You don't want to know the things they say to me.
Are you even paying attention? I'll slap you if I have to. I don't want to. Hate to slap a dead man, but the blood's got me skeeved, and the ear whistle's blowing. Blow, blow, blow the man down. Now, get up and fight. There's plenty of blood in a full grown man.
ATTENTION, I WILL BE GONE MOST OF THE DAY. BREAK THE BLOG FOR ME! AND GIVE ME SOME STUFF TO READ TOMORROW! Get 'em!
#2minutesgo
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