Wednesday, April 15, 2015


late again, but hopefully never never and always worthwhile; this one i scrapped completely and restarted from scratch but think i might like now, opening with the trigger, flash fiction friday #50:

redlight…all the time in the world…my head fills with noise, ideas dancing in from all directions+dimensions at once, declaring themselves all at once, justifying themselves, pointing out their connectedness to the story, their organicness, intrinsicness, immediacy, what doors+windows they might throw open, closets’ dark corners they could illuminate, in that intrusive, almost rude way they can have, that insistence on themselves to the exclusion of others…certain ideas can be very selfish sometimes, at least until they find themselves committed to page, even in draft, when they can relax enough to allow exploration of/with/through others…
thoughts show off their inherent wit, or darkness, because the ones loitering in my headspace know i like that kinna ting, know i like twisty+strange…my shoulder starts to twitch, elbow contracts, hand on steeringwheel jumping slightly, ghosting motions i can barely wait to reach home+execute. words pour into my consciousness, waterfall, avalanche, whisper, roar in my mind+ears; hands itching to capture them and lay them out in order for eyes to read back…

walk good.


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