Hmm. So what do you think? You think I can write? I just randomly wrote all that, on the spur, without preparing or even thinking. Just blurting out random stuff :) Kinda fun actually. I felt as if I was doing something adventurous - adventurous not in the jumping-out-of-plane sense, but in a way in which I felt powerful - I could choose and decide what happened to her, to him, to Tandy the dog. I think I like writing. If people encourage me, I'll probably write more.

Add a Comment

The Awakening

She knew she couldn't pretend to be asleep anymore. Her next door neighbor's Jack Russell Terrier, Tandy, was barking at the garbage trucks again. Another Tuesday morning, she groaned. After tossing all night in the $99 futon that he had once hastily but fondly bought for her, she finally realized it was her lower spine that had kept her up from a peaceful sleep. Ha! Sleep. How she longed for those summer nights she had spent, clinging, no clutching on to his left arm, at his grandfather's farm house. But right now, somewhere in this dilapidated house, water flowed freely from a leaky faucet. Freely, unlike her. Free to flow wherever it desired, molding itself to fill every receptacle up to the brim, and overflowing after it satiated the vessel. The freedom that the fluid oozed of, was not welcome in her house, in her mind, in her sleep on this blatant winter morning.

Why were so many thoughts crossing her mind simultaneously? How many times had her cell phone rung after she passed out on her cozy couch last night? When did she move from the couch to this uncomfortable bed? WHY did she move from the couch to this uncomfortable bed? Had she remembered to put out her garbage last night? When he was here, she didn't have these worries. She didn't think so much then. She didn't think. Yes, that was her problem. She didn't think. Had she been a 'thinking' person, this wouldn't have happened. But then she wouldn't have met him either. He admired her smartness, he would announce every time he got drunk. She would beam with a wide smile and admit to his dismay that she was just a dumb girl and he was only being nice. And he would cross his heart and raise a toast to her - to her, to her sweet sweet mind, and her beautiful thoughts. Why did he love the way I thought?

Some things are better left not understood she told herself, as she made her mind to get out of bed at the count of three and begin her day. One. Two. Thr... Oh forget it. A few minutes won't make a difference, her spinal cord assured her restless mind. Little did she know these exact few minutes would.

Add a Comment

To no one in particular, I just want to say...

Song for the night: "I know I can" - Nas

Add a Comment

So yet another day goes by. I can't believe I read all the books for my Trauma & Literature class! I read The Diagnosis in just two days! Sure, if I had nothing else to do, I could read it within a few hours, but hey, I've got a lot of other stuff to do too. Got a few study things this week, but nothing too stressful. I've been feeling much better lately and chilled w/ Mich all day today.

All this reading is having a weird effect on me. I walk around and I feel as if I'm a character in some novel. I enter a room and can just hear a paragraph being written in real-time, describing the scent, the posters on the walls, and the number of times the light flickered before finally turning on. More than once, I felt like stopping whatever I was doing, grabbing a pen, and jotting down my thoughts. And more than once I realized that I can't really write with a pen anymore. Of course I can still 'write' with a pen, but I have lost my ability to write essays, papers, or letters on paper. I need a computer :( Maybe I might just start writing a novel some day. Who knows, I might just start writing a novel on my 'blog itself.

Add a Comment