A Thoughtstorm is when your mind randomly goes in many directions, but not like a brainstorm... rather kind of aimlessly...
by Edeyn Hannah Blackeney
It starts... kind of... like this...
I'm an alien
What beautiful wings
The taste of the words on the wind
Not really
What's it like to be her?
Dripping from the corners of my mouth like butter dribbling off fresh from the oven rolls
Apply directly to the forehead
I think the TV needs moved so we can use the AC
Cranberry Apple
Ik houd van u, kostbaarte
Was it a dream where you see yourself standing in sort of sun-god robes on a pyramid with a thousand naked women screaming and throwing little pickles at you?
Someday, they're all going to figure out just how insane you really are, chica...
... than, a FRONTAL LOBOTOMY!
I do not think it means what you think it means
You know, I am wondering, what is in the bag?
Why am I the only one that ever has that dream?
And then... it continues more like... in a general direction... very Goldblumylogical...
This is a computer
Computer
It computes
Pukes
Vomit
Nonsense
I'm not making any sense
Making any
Creating
I create worlds because I'm a writer
Worlds
Worlds at War
Comic Books
Nonsense
That's circular, back to Comic Books
Comic Books
Unimportant to most people
Most folks call 'em green onions but they're really scallions
Dragnet
Monotone
That's why people hate me
But Comic Books are not unimportant to all people
Exciting
Fantasy
Ah! Science Fiction
Which is written, like what I do...
Like...
Hey, does that mean that some people like me?
Of course, I have it now, mean is another word for average
The average is that I must write, whether I feel up to it or not, if for no other reason than therapy.
So you can see why I feel that I must write.
Or not.
It's not about whether or not what I write is actually worthy of being kept, I keep it all. Or at least I try.
But now and then... now and then I write something that is obvious that must be kept so as to say something... worthwhile.
Like the letter to the School Board, what protested the treatment of that girl. They say, "Well, she's really a boy," all they want.
Don't make it any more true.
Of course, how much matter it makes she got someone like me on her side... well... that would take some thought.
Comments
A thousand miles a hour!
Edeyn you are braver than I. Never have I been able to describe how it feels. Like my thoughts are racing at thousand miles an hour in twenty different directions. Often it is right as I try to sleep. Needless to say that just doesn't work. Focusing on a story helps but then I end up 'telling' the story to myself. Once I do that it's dead. It's almost impossible for me to write the darn thing down at that point. I can thinK about the story but never ever start telling it or it's over.
Hugs!
Grover
You both need your coffee or maybe nocaffene for you
-- snicker --
Didn't seem all that odd to me, much like some of our customers at the bank ... when they let them *out* for the day. Isn't it the full moon today?
Sometimes good ideas come from bizarre associations of thought. Or this was selected quotes from those 1000 monkeys typing out the classics.
Have fun, be creative and get BACK on your meds or off them if this was the result. As it's been said sanity is so over rated but don't get behind the wheel like this, *K*?
John in Wauwauwauwauwauwauwauwauwauwau... Help I'm stuck!
John in Wauwatosa