Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Category: Fear
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a happy fall is the best kind of fall since it takes a leap and a prayer to get anywhere so best to dive in and let go of the fear of actually succeeding in one's chosen career
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controlled cowardicea maligned blank stone says sofate rocks me to sleep
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There are always "What if…?" moments. Some scenarios are simple; take a walk instead of a nap. Stay an extra ten minutes at work. Grab coffee with someone you haven't seen in a while vs. stay home with the TV for company. These seemingly disparate pieces of everyday life are like champagne bubbles. They'll gather,…
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Maia examined the shiny face in the bathroom mirror. She didn't look like she thought she ought to on her first day of work. First day of work anywhere. Ever. Instead of a composed professional heading out the door, Maia saw a scared 14-year-old dressed up in clothes she stole from her mother's closet. A…
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Make up whatever narrativefits the occasionbe a leaderbe a followerbe controlled by: *fashion*popular opinion*the feel-goodswalk in the oppositedirection just topiss people offand then listento what they haveto say about … behaviorliesin thecrackthatseparatesdaydreamsanddone deeds.
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The only thing one can do is say yes and see where the open door leads. Max was certain success would find him once he'd hit one of those milestone birthdays (pick your favorite one–it doesn't matter), but his bank account remained an embarrassment. So puny! Where was the swimming pool filled with cash he'd…
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Chance is a mile marker on the road between birth and death. Chance really means Supposed To Happen. Events occur as we cruise along life's highway. Outcomes, though? Beautifully complex is the study of unpredictability! We each walk a path littered with opportunities, and existence is heavy on the questions. Missed anything? Got it right?…
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it's ok if the songwriting suffersthe poetry stinkssnapshots of flowersboring/blurry/bathed in shitty lightit's all rightthe big red death moonand a pox on your lipsbrings big big changeand change is magicdisguised as one's biggest fear
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What if real life is what happens after 0s and 1s are planted in cloudy, fertile soil? Soil that is weightless, tasteless, clean? Your body is merely a delivery system for sweet precious data. Your blood is weak tea. Your content is meat and veg and apple pie à la mode. Eat up, World! You…
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Turn your world upside down and see what falls out of its pockets. Any keepers, tossers, or mysteries mixed in with the lint? What have you been holding on to? Does it hug you back (like maybe a small primate with its digits around your neck?) Cartwheels reveal frightfully forgotten things.
Semi-Daily Scribbles 