Rainy Beast

Rains is falling,
Falling all around.
One by one,
individual droplets roll down the inside of the window shield.
Rickety old truck,
with napkins stuffed in a dozen leaky holes.
Down,
down the droplets rolls.
Splashing against the dashboard,
making tiny delicate puddles.
spilling onto my jeans
soaking into my shoes.
Sitting in this rusty old thing,
This beast of a truck
with moss growing in the creases of the back window
and water dribbling down onto my clothes
I couldn't be happier.

Blue Bonnets

Blue bonnets growing in a bundle.

Escribe

Write to write. Write to feel, to think. I have to clear the gunk out of my head so that I can continue to write, to progress, to complete something, anything. To cleanse my thoughts I must write, and write and write and write until there is nothing left within me save for my stories. If I want to get anything done, then I have to purge myself of all that is unhelpful in this overactive noggin of mine. I have to make room for the things that matter, and toss out that which doesnt.

Meaningless ramblings. Pointless words pouring onto paper, but maybe thats a good thing. Thats the reason I created this blod, isnt it? To rid myself of overeager thoughts so that maybe I can get some work done. So that maybe when I sit down to write, I actually accomplish something. So that maybe when I lay down for bed at night, I can get some sleep.