[I haven't written anything solid since graduating, but hell, I might as well post something. Here's some notebook rambling for your entertainment.]
Pot has trained in me dumb-struck awe. I've learned to hang my mouth open and forget that I'm even thinking - everything is pure sense, and every once in a while an inane thought stumbles across my mind like a lopsided butterfly clutching his leg, screaming, "OH GOD IT'S BLEEDING! WHO MAKES BEAR TRAPS THIS SMALL?"
Maybe I ought to narrate to myself more, talk out loud.
Here's a typical scene. A character looking in the mirror, splashing water on their face, wondering, "How did I get here? How did it end up like this?"
I wonder if characters blow their noses and check the contents after.
I bet everyone has different standards for appraising their boogers.
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3 comments:
Win.
I love this: "Maybe I ought to narrate to myself more, talk out loud."
Also the buggers at the end. Love that.
This piece reminds me of when I walk around sometimes and I'm kind of narrating my life to myself in y head and debating things in my mind and then people give me a weird look and I wonder if I spoke aloud by accident...
Yeah, agree with Charles on that one. Just scattered enough to get the flow-of-consciousness ring without being hipster. Love the blending of the fourth wall where it's kinda an authorial diary entry, kinda a character piece, but then adding in the metaphysical layer of having the character contemplate the character. Nice. Almost want to see this expanded, or have a series of these kind of vignettes. Could be fun!
Love the boogers ^ ^
It has become apparent that I cannot spell the word "booger."
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