She’s 88 years old, and she is by all means peaches and cream, with a dollop of whip cream on top.
Even though it is still winter, spring cleaning has begun.
Into the void. No exit found.
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.
The village square is for the most of the time, relatively dead, that you can hear a pin drop on the steel grating. But on this early morning hour at 3:00 a.m., accompanied by a full moon, and a few scattered clouds creeping by, something odd was happening. There were a pack of dogs chasing a man. His face was panic stricken, and hollering for help, but no one bothered to call the local sheriff.
Two hours went by, when a driver for the bread and pastries company was making a delivery to the diner, when he found a man’s body mauled to death. The man was so badly bitten and scratched, was close to being unrecognizable. The sheriff along with the county sheriff, and the state police, are puzzled as to why nobody heard the man’s screams for help.
To this day, it is still an open case, and eventually become a cold case file.
Life’s short. Make the best of it.
High on life is all good.
A late winter storm, dumping copious amounts of snow on the streets and avenues, in the downtown area. Its 3:00 a.m., not a soul to be seen venturing in the deepening snow. Even the plows are having a hard time keeping the roads cleared. The only places that are still open, are a 24 hour mini mart, and a drug store, neither of the doing much business at all.
The pandemic has a done a number on quite a few businesses, and some of them have shuttered for good. So, with the economy tanking, and now the latest storm, won’t help most of the remaining stores, as it will keep the pedestrians home, and will have to put up with more cabin fever, which they have been going through for the past 11 months.
They feel that its a never ending story.
Every morning, at 3:00 a.m., you will find an elderly gentleman, sitting in his favorite booth, having a cup of coffee. He has been patronizing this certain coffee shop, since he retired many years ago from the book editing job, that he had for over 35 years.
He usually is the only one there, and he has gotten use to the solitude he enjoys. It doesn’t matter what the weather is like. It can be cold, hot and humid, raining or snowing, it will not stop him from walking the two blocks from where he lives in a high rise downtown apartment.
When he’s finished his coffee, he will take one to go, and then stop at the kiosk, and by the morning newspaper. Later in the day, he will take a nap, recharge his batteries, and then he will go about whatever he feels like doing.
Let’s get along, for no other reason than to get along.
Lazy day. Idling by. Forward moving.
Orbiting the sun for 72 years plus. An experience of many dimensions.
Lack of thoughts. Mind’s on vacation.
Gloomy weather casts a weary face.
So… here I sit, doing nothing.
Life: it is what it is.
Keeping the beat. Life is grand.
He’s dancing to the music in his head.
Walking on eggshells. An uncomfortable feeling.
I am I. You are you.
So today, I did a load of laundry. Just one of many of life’s rituals.
Plodding along like an old ox.
No coffee. No reason staying awake.
Sunday, we got quite a bit of snow. Tuesday, more snow is on the way. Possible 3-5 inches is on tap. Hopefully, I’ll get a walk or two in, as I do like walking in it, as long as it is not windy and blowing in my face. That makes it a miserable time… well I shall see what tomorrow brings.
Late Sunday morning. Snowflakes descending gracefully.
Power naps. Recharges the low batteries.
Snow, wind, ice. A perfect trifecta.
Brain freeze. Brain cramp. Warped mind.
Eat, drink, and sleep. Repetitive rituals.
Its February. Its snowing. Its wonderful.
Soon, better days are coming. Maybe.
Today is one of those days, that I can’t seem to get myself motivated to do anything. Maybe its good thing, and let the idle body’s batteries recharge, then I will be good to go.
Cold. Not record cold. Just cold!
What is the big deal with putting ketchup on scrambled eggs? I’ll admit that I will put it on. It all depends on how much I really want ketchup or not. But, I do love black pepper on my eggs.
The wind tells a unique tale.
Kicking back. Relaxed. Long day, done.
Read a book. Nourishing mind food.
Gazing into space. Contemplating what if.
President Joe Biden wears a $10,000 Rolex watch. Some people on the right are making a big deal of it. Me personally, I really don’t give a fuck what he wears. Give me a break.
Windy and cold
Wind chill factors
This is what its all about
The canary is tweeting his songs.
Its 4:24 PM, all is good.
Change is good, replied the cashier.
Four years of whatever you want to call it, soon will be just a distant memory. History will not treat it kindly.
1/20/2021. The end is in sight.
Did you hear? No I didn’t.
Yesterday was the old norm.
Today, the new one.
Slip, sliding, spinning on the ice.
Pouring rain. Walking outdoors on standby.
New day. New challenges, or not.
Beautiful day to kick back. Yep!
New year. New month. New day.
Brand new day. Same old shit.
Sunday frame of mind. All good.
2020 finished. Time to move on.
Yesterday’s rain washed the snow away.
“We need to write because so many of our stories are not being heard. Where could they be heard in this era of fear and media monopolies? Writing allows us to transform what has happened to us and to fight back against what’s hurting us. While not everyone is an author, everyone is a writer and I think that the process of writing is deeply spiritual and liberatory.”
“Read widely, and without apology. Read what you want to read, not what someone tells you you should read.”
~ Joyce Carol Oates
The entire cast of know-it-all, know nothing so-called leaders of the free world, are all aboard an all expenses gladfully paid for, at the taxpayers expense, a non-returnable flight, on the spaceship emptiness. It is heading straight on into the void, and will never be heard from again.
All I need is a sheet of paper and something to write with, and then I can turn the world upside down.
Thinking positive about one’s self, is a good thing.
The half-whacked preacher, is speaking the unspeakable of a lewd and lascivious nature.
I write differently from what I speak, I speak differently from what I think, I think differently from the way I ought to think, and so it all proceeds into deepest darkness.
~ Franz Kafka
Caught stealing his neighbor’s newspaper, he declared depraved indifference.
“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” ~ Toni Morrison, 88 y/o – Author, Nobel Laureate
Mr Positive debates Mr Negative. Egos clash. Neither comes out a winner. Both egos deflated.
Trekking with the numerous lost souls. The journey continues on.
people on the stoops
watching the passersby
spraying cool water
on the neighborhood kids
ice cream truck has arrived
people lining up
to buy and enjoy
an ice cream or something
cold to drink
to hot cook inside
so pizza and sandwiches
are the meals for the hungry
the ones without a/c suffer
as the temps are stifling
window fans are useless
as they blow hot air
no break in sight
from the swelter
yet the people
are use to it
life in the city
All ye caffeine junkies, drink up, and get wired.
Chasing the American dream. Its elusive.
During his morning stroll, the elderly man is curious, as to how many bricks did they use in making the one block long sidewalk. Maybe one day, he will find the answer, by the tedious task of counting the red rectangular blocks of clay.
writing a post
even a so-called
is not as easy
as it seems
“Always read with a pen in your hands, not beside you on the table, but actually in your hand, ready, armed … Put a question mark by everything you find suspect. Underline anything you really appreciate. Feel free to write ‘splendid,’ but also, ‘I don’t believe a word of it.’ And even ‘bullshit.'”
~ Tim Parks, Novelist – Born: December 19, 1954
“Why don’t you write books people can read?”
– Nora Joyce to her husband James (1882-1941)
Carolyn Janice Cherry Pen Name: C. J. Cherryr, American writer of speculative fiction.
Source note: Johnsonian Misellanies (1966 edition)
“The mind of a writer can be a truly terrifying thing. Isolated, neurotic, caffeine-addled, crippled by procrastination, consumed by feelings of panic, self-loathing, and soul-crushing inadequacy. And that’s on a good day.”
~ Robert De Niro
“I spent my entire youth writing slowly with revisions and endless rehashing speculation and deleting and got so I was writing one sentence a day and the sentence had no FEELING. Goddamn it, FEELING is what I like in art, not CRAFTINESS and the hiding of feelings.”
~ Jack Kerouac
He’s known as the ‘why’ man, for he is always asking the why of everything.
A head filled with scatterbrain ideas.
Easy reading is damn hard writing. But if it’s right, it’s easy. It’s the other way around, too. If it’s slovenly written, then it’s hard to read. It doesn’t give the reader what the careful writer can give the reader.