“I wish I had Emily Dickinson time so that I can fill boxes with crap I would love to get out of my system.”
-Every writer there ever was
Our brains like to think, even at the most inconvenient of times:
If you are anything like me, you’re mind is never ending. You think so much that sometimes you wake up from your sleep and start jabbering (I actually do this..as odd as it sounds.) Being a holder of such a complex mind can be overwhelming. There are so many things you must remember because you need to discuss them and write you’re feelings based on them. You are a mad scientist (in your head) and you like to think that every blog is your Frankenstein.
Who needs a purse or wallet?…as long as my shirt or pants have a big enough pocket to hold my notepad and pen I’m solid like a stone.
Ever have a slow day at work and you start thinking about a random subject? Something that really isn’t too important but you NEED to go in the bathroom and write as much as you can in five minutes. I say five minutes because if you stay any longer your co-workers will think:
A: you are pooping.
B. You are facebooking.
These are two of the most mainstream ways to use a bathroom, not everyone blogs. (DAMNIT.)
Everything is more significant so us…..
“Becky, isn’t this caramel machiato the epitome of beauty. It reminds me of when the sun is starting to set.”
You better believe that you wrote a small poem about the way your morning tea tasted on the first sip in the morning and that’s your dirty little secret, isn’t it? Becky chugged hers in two seconds and forgot if it was chamomile or chai. Everything has words behind it regardless of what kind.
The book was so much better than the movie.
I feel like you have to be somewhat of a reader in order to be a blogger, so, I threw this one in on a whim. Maybe that fact that a movie can be put into words excites us? Who knows, but what we do know is the book described the main character to be attractive and the movie didn’t emphasize that. So, we left the theatre mid movie and Becky didn’t notice cause she was too busy scarfing her popcorn and junior mints she paid fifty bucks for.
The list goes on for miles.
I will say this:
Regardless of all the odd quirks I have from being a creative thinker, it makes me happier than a duck who doesn’t get bread.
Forever taking notes in bathrooms,