The Creative Center Of A Writer’s Life

“Reading is the creative center of a writer’s life. I take a book with me everywhere I go, and find there are all sorts of opportunities to dip in. The trick is to teach yourself to read in small sips as well as in long swallows. Waiting rooms were made for books— of course! But so are theater lobbies before the show, long and boring checkout lines, and everyone’s favorite, the john. You can even read while you’re driving, thanks to the audiobook revolution. Of the books I read each year, anywhere from six to a dozen are on tape.”

~ Stephen King

lost and found

its a perfect day to take a stroll, when a young female stops a few feet away. she has a dumbfounded look on her face… he stops dead in his tracks … excuse me… you look like you are lost… she replied… i am lost … do you need help… since you say that you are lost… nope… okay … so how can i help you in any other way … she told him i am no longer lost … huh … why is that he asked… because i found you … so my quest is over for finding the first man that noticed i was lost…

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oh how the words come flowing out. makes writing so much fun…

Strangers In The Park

Sitting on a park bench, reading one of his favorite authors, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, an acquaintance that he hasn’t seen in ages. He remembered her name, but as far some of the particulars go, they just passed right by him. He finally looked up, and said hello, and she said I know you, but can’t remember where I’ve seen you before.

After a few moments of happy chat, she still couldn’t place him, and when she got home, to look him up on the internet. What she learned was that he was a high school teacher, never married, and no brothers and sisters.

With that info, she was contemplating to whether to call him, and hopefully meet up with him, or just call it a day, and move on.

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I write for the hell of it.

Why Me

It is one of those days, when nothing seems to go right for a number of reasons. So what were the things that ended up ruining the neighbor’s day.
He looks out the window and sees that his car stolen…no milk in the fridge for his cereal…coffee maker shit the bed…later in the day…he burnt his sirloin steak…

With everything that went south,he took a double dose of Xanax..and called it a day.

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I write to entertain the masses.

A Much Needed Change

With all the bullshit going with the Delta virus flaring up in his state, Jim decided to pack his bags, jump in his car, and head out of state.

After driving north for the past four hours, he decided to keep going in the same direction. Eventually, he got on Interstate 95 North, and saw the sign for Portland, Maine. He stayed overnight at the rest stop…rested up…then topped off the gas tank, and after a bite to eat he proceeded back on his journey.

Around five hours later, he was approaching the US-Canadian border in Houlton, went through the all the questions the Canadian border police asked, and then proceeded on 95 in Woodstock, New Brunswick.

He felt so relieved to be in a country where the people are a lot friendlier, and that made up his mind to want live in Canada, and leave the past behind.

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I write as it keeps me sane.

Not What She expected

A rural upbringing, she decided to move to a big city.

The realtor won her over with all the good things and the closeness to some of the best restaurants, cinemas, etc., etc…so she agreed to take the one bedroom apartment, which was on 12th floor.

What she didn’t expect, was the littered sidewalks, traffic tie ups, and the constant or she seemed think that there the sound of sirens…police cruisers, fire engines, ambulances…

She felt uncomfortable seeing the homeless lying down on the benches…sidewalks…the panhandlers asking for money.

So after a couple of months of living in a city rife with all the things that she got tired of dealing with…she came to the conclusion, of moving back to the small village that she still adores, and never again live in a city.

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I write because its something I like to do.

A Sight For Sore Eyes

Saturday morning, he goes down to his favorite bakery to buy a couple of bran muffins and a coffee to go. As he is waiting for his order to be finished, he hears the bell atop the door ring, and what he sees is his ex-girlfriend from a few years back. It immediately brought back some bad memories, and now he’s at a loss for words.

They looked at each other, neither one said a word, and when his order was ready, he paid for his stuff, and left the premises. All the way home, he he wished that he never went out. When he finally arrives at his home, he puts the muffins on the counter, then go to his spot on the floor and meditate, knowing that it will clear up his head.

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I write because this is what I do.

Monday Evening 8:54 p.m.

the smoke from
the west coast
wildfires is
really bad
here in my
part of the
state…wore
a mask while
I took a walk…
you can actually
smell it too…
shortly after
7:00..the sun was
a ball of red
as it was behind
the smoke…its
supposed to be
a little better
tomorrow…as
I’ve had enough
of this shit…

Life Is Too Short

“I don’t care what people think about me. Never did, never will. Life is too short to be worrying about that shit.”

~ Amy Winehouse, Singer-songwriter, Born: September 14, 1983 – Died: July 23, 2011

Dedication To A Friend

A few months back, I contemplated whether to continue blogging, or throw in the towel and call it a day. One of the first to email me, to say she would miss the things I post, and what not. Another follower from my local area, more or less said the same thing.
Anyways, after a couple of weeks passed by, I decided to ease back into it. So I’m sure I made the right decision. With that said, I dedicate this post to Georgiann and her blog is https://gigisrantsandraves.wordpress.com She has a wonderful blog, love her writing, and tells it like it is, as she doesn’t hold back. Please check out her blog, and tell her Don at a pondering mind sent you.

you know

wake up in the morning

enjoying the first cup of

coffee

open the laptop

to read and view

the latest news

lo and behold

come to realize

nothing has changed

everything is the same

not really surprised

but…you never know

a morning in the future

may stun the mind

saying that it is to

good to be true

that there is

a change…maybe

good

bad…or

in between

you never know

bummer

the table is all laid out with chef salad, a wedge of cheddar cheese, a plate of expensive cold cuts, and a bottle of red wine. with all the time she spent getting the food ready, the candles ready to be lit, her date nevertheless was a total slob… knocking stuff over, and … the evening turned into a bummer of night … she vowed never again … never

11:29 a.m.

got to see

blood work

results online

and my A1c

is 5.8 a

a glucose level

of 117

which is down

from the last test

earlier this year

the A1c then was

6.0 a level

of 125

so I feel good

knowing that

I’m doing the

right things

and eating right

and drinking

plenty of water

also no insulin

needed…which

is nearing two years

3:00 A.M. – Short Fiction

It was one those nights, Ned was tossing and turning, and restless. He looked at the alarm clock, and it read 3:00 a.m. He decided to get up, put his clothes on, grabbed his keys and cigarettes, and went for a walk. The air was warm, and the stars were shining. It felt good to walk in the quiet solitude, of the tree lined street he resides on.

When he returned home, he felt like a new man, and the stroll helped clean out the cobwebs in his head. After all was said and done, Ned went back to bed, and before you know it, he was out like a light.