I lay in bed, my body is exhausted with my head pounding. Soon my mind rolls over, sits up on the edge of the bed, stretches, scratches his armpit, smacks his mouth a couple of times, and gets up.
I say, "Hey where do you think you're going?"
He sneers at me and walks out without a word. I sneer back, roll over in bed, and close my eyes. Unfortunately, my body is stupid and can't figure out how to go to bed on its own. So much for sleeping tonight.
I've always wanted to write a book. In January, I finally sat down and did it. The biggest hurtle has been the workings of my mind. It's all over the place, my mind that is. I tell it to behave and the next thing you know it's wandering off to another room forgetting to take me with it. I get up from my chair and walk to the kitchen or garage and just stand there.
My body is confused. "Why am I just standing here?"
I picture my mind peaking around the corner giggling over the predicament my body is in. Sometimes my mind is merciful and rejoins me before my body gives up. More often than not, my mind ends up laughing hysterically on the floor while my body drools stupidly. Eventually my body gives up and wanders back to the chair.
This kind of meandering mind makes it difficult to bring a story line together. For instance, I have an exciting action scene developing and then I glance at my computer screen....
Drake stood in the path, eyes widened in disbelief, heart racing with an unexplained terror. A figure waited ahead, its gray cloak blending with the twilight creating the illusion of a disembodied head. It was tall and broad-shouldered, the hood hiding its face in deep shadows. The unmistakable protrusion of a snout escaped the shroud shading the eyes. Drake's hand drifted to the pommel of his sword.... Hey, did I see salsa in the refrigerator earlier? I should get some salsa! I am in the mood for salsa!!
"Hun, do we have any chips?
"I'm sure the reader is confused by my insolent mind. Actions scenes are only the beginning. Can you imagine the devastation as a result of my attempt to write a descriptive narrative? A new Cold war, nuclear holocaust, an alien invasion!
In spite of my limitation, my desire to write is very powerful, bordering obsession. My challenge is to keep my mind engaged long enough to pull it all together. I found myself last December pondering the matter only to find my body standing at the bottom of the stairs with its mouth hanging open.
"Uh," it says in its mind numbing sophistication. "What we doing down here?"
I race around the room trying to locate my mind so I can answer my body.
"Hun, have you seen my mind lately. I left it by the chair and now I can't find it."
"Have you tried looking inside the thing on your shoulders?" she says in her usual insolent manner.
"Ha, Ha. Very funny. Come on I need it," I say with witty sarcasm.
I check my cranium while she's not looking and sure enough, their sits the sadistic fellow with a smirk on his face. I verbally lambaste him. He responds by sliding his hands behind his head and striking a most offensive pose. I raise my fist in a threatening manner. He smirks again.
"Did you find him?" Hun yells from the kitchen.
"Yeah, he was right next to the chair where I left him." I threaten him with everlasting punishment if he even thinks to out me.
I've started this blog to give me a forum for daily writing and a way to connect with a wider community. I hope to create an enjoying environment, a little humor, and a way to brighten other's day. Please enjoy.
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