Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Category: Work
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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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Everyone is a writer. Everyone has a book to push. But who's reading this stuff? Here's a secret: very few people I met in the cubicles of Talley Insurance Company read. The reason is mostly a time thing, but most of the people I unscientifically polled had never been readers to begin with. If these…
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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…
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Not disheartening: 1. Together we are alone.2. Apart we have grown.3. The future unknown. An outline never followed, this impasse saves us. What is reality when our memories are shaped by present-day preferences?
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Watch your step in these. They belong to someone else (a girl who dared to dream.) She got noticed in all the right quarters in all the wrong ways. That lark of hers turned into luck, the kind that numbs and nullifies and turns joy into shame overnight. This pair is too tight. You can…
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It seems as though the puller of strings and the maestro of messing with heads is at it again. Never one to show his work, the Old Unknowable has led me back to the path from which I ran not so very long ago. I thought I got a jump on the Big Blankness, but…
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Stella can't admit she is an artist. How presumptuous and downright impractical! Where's the money in watercolors and song? Stella's mind and soul are always in a state of agitation over this deep, dark yearning of hers to make beautiful things that people really care about (again with the recurring theme–care enough to part with…
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I don't wear a watch. Easy enough to get around without one. Besides, I don't trust a measurement of time that does not leave a twinge in my belly or an ache in my bones. My local crone told me it's a much wiser move to keep pace with cycles. "Somethin' worth the wait can't…
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A distressed blessing luck is. Some say you make your own, while others believe luck owns your backside for life. Speaking of which, life is said to have a purpose. Luck says: "Hang on there, partner. Everything depends on which side of the shadow you're from." There's a lesson embedded somewhere on this page about…
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Everything's a movie. Just buy a bloody shirt already. Who needs the song and dance? It's not necessary to make a big production out of a daily (for most folks, anyway) habit. Yes, one should cover her bits. And yes, choosing items for one's wardrobe can be fun. I'm not totally thumbing my nose at…
Semi-Daily Scribbles 