I’m going to write some poetry. Kay? I mean, one day. I’ll write poetry again.
Grace told me to write more. Like this, “write more.” Or, it was more like this, “WRITE MORE!!!”
I hope that’s what she wanted. I get flummoxed when writing is in upper case. I realized she wanted me to write to her. Or, did she want me to write in general? I’m very confused with what to write, and where to write.
I’ve been writing really dumb things: stories and such. I started three serialized stories on Kindle Vella. I use a pseudonym. I also use a pseudonym for fanfiction tripe. I have six ongoing fanfics. It’s an illness, at this point.
I think I have an addiction. Its getting bad. I just write and write and write. My brain is constantly in those worlds and not the present world. That’s a big problem with writing dumb stories.
My son had an intervention. “You need to stop this. Stop this insanity. Your brain has stopped functioning.”
After staring a long minute (possibly more like 30 minutes).
It’s amazing how he calmly let me stare so long, but then I believe he was talking during this time.
I told him I’d take a break. And that’s why I’m writing a blog post. This is part of my break.
Summer is here. I know it will be hot. Temperatures will be in the high 90’s all week. (That’s in the high 32’s and above for Celsius people.)
I don’t want to go outside because it’s very hot. I don’t like to wear shorts (I hate shaving my legs). I love jackets. And so, summer and me, well we just don’t like one another.
When is Fall coming? I’m going to stick it out indoors until Fall comes back.
Did you ever think you’d be called a “Celsius Person?”
I wanted to be born a Celsius person, but instead I was born a Fahrenheit Person. Now, all my numbers are bigger.
The crepe myrtle flowers are blooming outside my window. Okay, okay, this is weird. We have a gigantic crepe myrtle that goes up to the third floor of this apartment. It’s MASSIVE. I mean, it’s lovely, but massive.
And that crepe myrtle is really MASSIVE! (I should seriously take a photo.)
Do you like that word? I think I’m suffering from word overuse. It’s part of my writing addiction.
The best cure for word overuse is to use “another” word.
Use. Another. Word.
Bloody! I’ve got a poem.
Massive, the Poem
It’s when it creeped, or crept, or creped
Around the corner.
The trunk was massive
A right ground stormer
Planted only five years ago
This beautiful tree-shrub mutant
Has taken over 600 square feet
The entire width of my small apartment
When I look out it’s all I see
This massive shrub, that became a tree
I’m sure it was overnight
The rains fed it and the sun gave it light
Then it scraped in its daytime cry
Across all the windows and I sighed,
“Fuck, that’s a massive crepe myrtle!”
But those flowers sure are pretty
And so, so many delicate white gentle petals
Aw, nothing like a massive plant
The waxy green leaves, and smooth splotchy bark
It’s entirety is surely, the grandest work of art
One very gigantic and massive
That’s my poetry. I hope you like it Grace. I wrote. I wrote it. That’s my writing for the day. I’m on a low-word diet.
Thank you. Please come again for more wonderful groupings of words. And if you enjoyed this please give it a like, or follow my blog.
I hope you all have a splendid day of seeking, and searching, and finding what you love. (As long as it’s not too massive.)
Love you Gracie! 🙂 ❤