I haven't written a story nor added to any existing ones in quite some time. After a good amount of time neglecting my writings, I find I tend to drift off randomly throughout the days. It's as if my mind gives me no choice as to what I'm to do with these sequences of events called life.
Like an out of control tornado, plots and characters twirl their way around in my mind, blurring themselves as if they were entities that had no real form; like they existed only on a level of cognition that no adjectives or nouns (let alone pronouns) could capture. Sometimes they're worthy of remembrance, yet there's so many that I find myself lucky to recall the 'head turners'.
It's become a sadistic game of mental ping pong. The analogies and plot twists rattle about somewhere in my head, yet I always come up short changed when I attempt to portray any of it with words.
It's a masquerade of taunting and self-pity, so it seems. I'm not sure if that description hits the bulls-eye, but it's certainly gotta be worth a double 20. One thing I am sure of is, is that trying to dig through my pile of memories that make me who I am is a confusing venture. In the end, there's only acted upon convictions. Whether they filter through my logic, fingers, and bias in a manner that is appealing to others is whole other blog!
I like smoked turkey... it never lets me down...
and how...
Like an out of control tornado, plots and characters twirl their way around in my mind, blurring themselves as if they were entities that had no real form; like they existed only on a level of cognition that no adjectives or nouns (let alone pronouns) could capture. Sometimes they're worthy of remembrance, yet there's so many that I find myself lucky to recall the 'head turners'.
It's become a sadistic game of mental ping pong. The analogies and plot twists rattle about somewhere in my head, yet I always come up short changed when I attempt to portray any of it with words.
It's a masquerade of taunting and self-pity, so it seems. I'm not sure if that description hits the bulls-eye, but it's certainly gotta be worth a double 20. One thing I am sure of is, is that trying to dig through my pile of memories that make me who I am is a confusing venture. In the end, there's only acted upon convictions. Whether they filter through my logic, fingers, and bias in a manner that is appealing to others is whole other blog!
I like smoked turkey... it never lets me down...
and how...
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