Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Category: The Journey
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So here's what I wanted to tell you the other day in Piggly Wiggly => => More people need to make art for medicinal purposes. Cheap therapy! But does that art always have to be labeled with a $9.99 sticker and set out on the shelves? Ask yourself: Would someone who does not live inside…
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Maya earned a college degree, damn it! Ralph and the kids didn't give a second thought to Mom's intellect. They just needed her to make their lives a little less of a hassle. For instance, Maya knew how to separate the laundry. She'd happily tell them all cold water worked for most things. Maya dreamed…
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just stop and think for a moment about that moment when all the forces of the universe converged inside one bleary eyed thought while watching some old b&w costume drama after a week of very very little sleep and the kids stopped with the crying but the milk went bad and there was not a…
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It's hot today, but you always did like a good soak in the sun. It's been a year since I was able to scratch your chin and tell you it was too early for supper. We can feel you roam about the house, taking head count as you move from room to room so no…
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it's round it's squareit hits you on the noggin from out of thin airnaw, it was already therecoiled up in your bellystretched out on the grasswide-eyedor wearyhot coals glow and winter's grip goes slacksummer keeps coming backthe thought can't find its word butthe world still turns Inspiration
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Mae's walls closed in on her, Fred, the shelves filled with dusty tchotchke. Golden age turned lovers and objects into death traps. She needed to speak. It'd been years since Mae had anything to say. She'd long ago hung her heart on the wall in a nice Certificate of Achievement-sized frame. It had the most…
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This just in: This just is. Time, breath, pain, bliss. We're all in it. Minute-to-minute. Possessions are a blight. We chase after filler and fluff and can't keep up. Little of what I have can be called my own, so just let go. Three cheers–one wish–follow at your own risk.
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Busy, busy bee. Mother of all industry. If it's true we write what we know, best to know as much as possible. One needs something quote worthy to say when one's work is called "a shabbily disguised conversion story." Either own the act of disciple-making, or close up shop. People say they prefer the truth,…
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do that artificial thing you doruffle blue feathers and count white liesand then call it the story that wrote itselfyellow heads bend backwards to look you in the eyesthis is a dizzy way to live and leaves us sicksome desperate kind of love
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Brandi never wanted to travel that meandering middleroad, where life shrinks and grows and folds in on itself to reveal the early-warning signs of wrinkles and wisdom. Only fresh starts and big payoffs would do. Brandi hated the thought that her life could be reduced to a monotonous crawl of sameness from day to day…
Semi-Daily Scribbles 