Daily Stats
Words: 1000+
Caffeine: morning cup + midmorning cappuccino + late afternoon cappuccino (zing-a-ding-dee)
Evil Calories: chocolate covered chocolate
Reality TV: American Idol
So, I was digging through some old files on my computer today, and I stumbled across some of my old writing. I cracked up because most of it was from my days of working in advertising, when I'd be so fed up with the annoying politics and cry-baby creatives that I'd hide at my desk and blow off doing real work so I could write. Which resulted in mounds and mounds of really short stories that made no sense at all.
But one really struck me, mostly because I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THE HECK IT'S ABOUT!!! Seriously, I cannot remember!!!! I don't even really remember writing it! It's very odd...doesn't even sound like me. So, I thought I'd post it. It's very short, kind of hokey and it sounds like the narrator is being chasing by something (spoooooky...not). I didn't edit it or spell-check or anything. This is exactly how I found it:
There was something lying on the ground in front of me. It took me more time than I had to realize it was just a crumpled receipt. A 3-liter of Coke and an O’Henry bar. That wasn't a sign. Not one I could understand. I threw it back on the ground and continued walking. I knew that the weather should register something; hot, cold, windy, rainy. But I felt nothing. It was as if what pursued me had already caught up with me, and left upon me a thick layer, blocking out what everyone else was experiencing. The sidewalk was crooked as I stepped, somehow not tripping as the jagged edges seemed to rise to meet my feet. My pace was being slowed by simple concrete slabs. Concrete slabs that had no life, no souls, no memory. Yet, they had somehow formed an alliance with what was following me.
Well, there you go. My brain five years ago. I certainly had a flair for the dramatic. It was as if what pursued me had already caught up with me, and left upon me a thick layer, blocking out what everyone else was experiencing. Oops...I think I just threw up a little.
1 comment:
Okay, that's really funny because I was just thinking about the insipid pap I used to write in college. I didn't do any fiction writing because I have 5 million papers to write, but I was on the staff of a poetry magazine my first semester of college. And, funnily enough, I always hated reading poetry but had this idea that I could write it. I wish I would have saved the ones that got published that semester (better yet, I wish I'd saved the ones that got rejected!)
But they were BAD. I thought was being terribly profound, but it came off like an SNL skit of The Master Thespian.
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