Yup, I did it. I wrote every day for a year straight. No, it wasn’t always easy, but at times I really surprised myself, and honestly it taught me how much can change in a year. I thought that potential might lie beneath the concrete, and that breaking through the immense weight might not be possible. I told myself, at a time I thought was far too late, that I wanted to be a writer, but I still committed entirely. There were serious ups and downs. Times where I thought I would just never get a break, or that this just wasn’t the universe’s plan for me, but, through it all, I held on to the knowledge that our minds are our strongest tools. Thought, understanding, and learning do us all good, and with a little nudge, that potential we all have can find the single crack in that concrete and break through, exposing a hardened, yet delicate, rose. Corny analogy? Of course. But what would a sentimental, “I’m a writer now, momma,“ discussion be without one of those.
The war is won!
We seem to have overtaken the enemy. The days blend together, and many are lost, but the end feels near, and in our favor. The king has not fallen, and holds the front line sleeplessly. His empire will not crumble, and he will not quake.
The body battle rages on. The vengeful flu still aiming to take my body for its prize, but surely it will never take my mind. The first wall was breached on day 1 of the battle, but we have fortified, and the enemy becomes weaker by the day.
I’m surprised that I can write at the moment, but dedication doesn’t let barriers such as broken eyes stop it in its tracks. The reason my eyes are broken is because i have been attacked by a sporadic bout of the flu. We are currently at war, and both sides are fighting valiantly. He is a worthy adversary, but for the sake of my kingdom, I can’t yield. We will continue on, with shining blades of vitamin C, slashing until we can slash no longer. May our efforts prevail, for the crown shall not be lost.
Why does making soup always take so god damn long? I want to experiment with bisques, but I don’t have an emulsifier, aka fancy speak for a blender. I just wanna fire-roast some seasonal veggies from upstate and throw excessive amounts of garlic in there. I’m going to stop talking, because I’m just making myself hungry.
Fucked around and got a triple-double… at an arcade, that is. Ya, I’m the master of the art of arcade hoops. Don’t @ me.
What’s in the box?! Well, my friend, I’m glad you asked! *Smirks eerily* Inside this very box lies your wildest dreams… and surely you have had… wild… dreams. Those things you can never remember because they lie so deep in your mind, but you know they’re there. Why not remember?! Take a peek! Look inside! *Looks up maniacally from the box without moving head an inch*
Police Line. Do not cross. Ya, of course we’re being serious. What the hell do you mean, “sounds like a joke.“ Why would we put up a police line if we wanted just anyone to cross it? What do you think we are, Dull? Christ on a cross, if I let you step inside the line for a second will you quit asking questions?! No, you can’t poke the body… Fucking-A, kid, here’s a quarter. Go buy yourself a candy bar. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THATS NOT ENOUGH?! Alright you disrespectful shit, I was ok with corporal punishment and if you come too close I’ll… Shit, shit, shit! Come back here with that badge, god damnit! (stops in exhaustion, Huffs and Puffs heavily with hands on knees and belly swaying back and forth) One (huff) less (puff) donut (huff) next (puff) time.
Man, Ebay makes me mad.
A light in the attic
that was once lit
sits solemn and silent
while no one sees it.
Does it wave or just stay
without eyes to persist
I’m now tempted to ask
did it ever exist?
In all honesty I don’t remember the structure of a haiku. Aku, on the other hand, is a giant bad ass dragon demon that is constantly at odds with my guy Samurai Jack. I remember him, for sure. So here’s my take on an Aku Haiku.
Size that obstructs the moon and sun
fear lays veil over trembling village eyes
the face of a wandering warrior
terrifying the terrorizer
I’ve had a pear, but never a Prickly Pear. It comes from a cactus and is purple, not green. I hear it’s a delicacy, so @ me in a month and lets hope I’ve tried it!
Shonen, that is. Also, white men can’t do it.
Bid on it. If you lose. Oh well. Try again, friend.
…and occasionally, there. In fact, why not everywhere? I guess that’s impossible. A guy can dream, though, can’t he?!
Excuse me, sir! Can’t you read the yellow tape? It says, “Police Line, Do Not Cross.“ What do you mean, “is this a joke?!“ It is absolutely not a joke. Well, yes it’s a massacred banana, but those things are dangerous. Wouldn’t want some poor soul slipping on it now would we? There would most certainly be train delays, and no one wants that evil in their life. You’re welcome.
That feeling of having a diminished mind lingers as the day gets older. It really stands to teach, though. When our minds wander and feel uncontrollable, that can be the perfect opportunity to start writing down your thoughts. Some of the greatest ideas came from rogue minds.
If my middle name is John, does that mean I can say my middle name is Jack? Is that like an all encompassing nickname? I wonder…