January 21st, 2009

devilish

What was the motive for the killer in the end of this young and beautiful life?

Someone on my friends list quoted someone else from LJ, something that basically said that they don't want to think about writing, they just want to put down what the feel and whatever comes out (very VERY loosely paraphrased...) - I tried to find it on my friends list, but couldn't seem to come across it. Granted, I'm so freaking sleepy (and indigestioned) that I probably looked over it.

Anywell. It reminded me of the tenth grade, how my English teacher would make us take the first five minutes of period to write whatever would flow out of our hands into a journal of sorts. I still amazingly have the darn thing, I think. I remember writing about whatever fantasy novel I was reading at the time and dreams I had the night before more than anything else. I remember Teacher Terry telling us to write continuously no matter what. If we couldn't think of anything to write, we were to just write ANYTHING: from a list of fruits, to cartoon characters, to the word "jazz" over and over and over.

I remember the freedom of the entire exercise, about how I felt so much better after that first five minutes were over. It was a way to sort of work through things without having to actually WORK at writing. It was amazing what came out at times.

Shortly after moving here, I bought a little spiral bound journal with leaves on it while on a tremendous layover in Denver. I kept it with me for awhile, forcing myself to write in it whenever I would be stuck waiting for the bus (or anything) for an indeterminate amount of time. I keep putting the thing into my purse to try to get into the habit again, but keep taking it back out because I don't feel like carrying the extra weight.

Maybe I should try a few posts like that - force myself to type for five minutes every night, even if I can't think of any one thing to discuss.

I tried to create something scrumptious out of beets for the 2nd time ever tonight. I think I shall have to request that they be left out of my organics bin for just about forever. I baked four little ones and eated them with butter - my tummy is quite upset now, though it's kind of cool that the inside of my mouth temporarily looks like I've been drinking blood.