Minds Eye Drive By
If you sent me your imagination
I'd strip it down to its component parts
I'd take the gentleness of conversation
And paint its sentences across our hearts
If there was nothing but the sound of silence
I'd turn it up until the heavens wept
And then I'd vaccinate the veins of violence
Telling no one where its ashes slept
If every rainbow had a black and whiteness
There'd be no jealous green or angry red
And in a world of badly bleached politeness
We'd just be highlights of the things we've said
I can't be bothered with procrastination
It's just a way to say your mind can't fly
So if you lend me your imagination
We'll lock and load then bullet the blue sky...
How would you react?
* I do not intend to be mean, harsh or anything just thought..meh?*
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At the hospital while patiently waiting for our turn..
Guy: hey, are you a patient too? What do you want to have checked up?
Me: Uhm, (feeling awkward) there's something in my throat. It's like my esophagus is clogged or something. I'm having trouble breathing
Guy: Esophagus? You mean you choked on a soup?
Me: ( thinking what does the guy mean..then realized he was referring to ASPARAGUS soup...i wanted to laugh seriously but i don't want to offend) * smiling* uhm yeah maybe..
Is it wrong that i did not correct him?!? Gaaahhh
A Little Bit of Truth
I don't think any of you here on Prose. actually know me. I am pretty kept to myself at times but that doesn't mean I don't want to know all of yo, I do. I hope you find this to be something worth reading. This is a little bit about me..enjoy.
I love coffee, tea, and lemonade.
I love psychology books more than I do any other kind because I am intrigued by it all. Human behavior is a huge part of my studies as well.
I am a fan of Criminal Minds, Ghost Whisperer, and the movie Secret Life of Walter Mitty.
I write a lot of tragic things because I love horror and romance mixed in together.
My fears: heights, showing weakness, and public speaking.
I'm introverted to the core.
I spend most of my time with my pets. (two turtles, three dogs (one recently passed away), two cats)
I love traveling and simply being outside in the sun or at night with the company of the moon. I crave natures presence and I need it as well. I think everyone does. I wish more people would spend time outside instead of glued to their digital screens.
I am in a long distance relationship with my boyfriend Caleb. It's been the longest relationship I've ever had. I'm glad I have him in my life.
I love rings and the color black, grey, and brown. (Anything neutral really)
Not a huge shopper though I do collect art and CD's.
I like sunsets. The way they are always different each time. It's like a show in the sky.
I love creatures of every kind. If they are dangerous I'll admire from a far. If not you bet I'll be up close and praising their existance. It amazes me how many insects and animals are so uniquely made for them to survive in their own way.
I was born in a small city of western Russia, but I'm American raised. I love foreign foods but I do not eat meat/fish.
I also live off of pizza and egg rolls.ha
I make my own jewelry and paint in my free time.
I love riding my bike, camping, skateboarding, hiking, and canoeing.
If you know me then you'd know I may be sweet but my view of humanity differs from my view of nature.
I am constantly battling myself.
A good vs. evil type thing within me.
I have a need to learn, but I struggle to remember a lot of what i do.
I play stragegy games to train my brain.
I also love Prose. I have been busy lately with family but I always find my free time being spent here. I hope you enjoyed this little getting to know me. I hope to read more about you lovely writers. Thank you!
I don’t need validation I just need you to nod your head and let me live
all I'm doing is trying to survive and just because my struggle isn't yours doesn't make it less of a struggle it isn't a competition of who is hurting more why can't we just acknowledge the pain so we can go on with our days
who slept less who cares we've all got our own fears keeping us up past midnight and through the twilight we are all singing lullabies trying to remember why stars, the very infinity that makes us feels so small, used to feel like home
in our future
our hands have adapted to our environment
replaced with contraptions, buttons and bells
our eyes are now
only screens, and our minds are dead the moment we are deemed alive
they were selling memories for millions and emotions at half price
no one knows each other and eventually we stopped naming our children
because what was the point?
after all
they are only a username and password
twitter controlled our actions, facebook pages our memories and instagram filtered our image
until we became unrecognisable...
even to ourselves
our words are no longer meaningful...
only abbreviated syllables
our hands...
they are incapable of holding one another
it is impossible for hearts to beat because our blood stream was microchipped with the poison of disposition
we can't love...
we can only "like"
like posts, pictures, comments...
but never ourselves
So...
why are you still staring at this screen?
go tell your lover
you love them
because
maybe one day
you'll wake up
and they'll be gone
traded for a tweet
"liked" instead of loved.
On writer’s block and the creative process
This week’s guest blogger needs no formal introduction.
You’ve read her work. You’ve laughed, cried. Perhaps you’ve even “snorked” (read: snawrk’d) at the clever command she takes over the English language.
She’s New York-based blogger and humorist, @AnitaRosner. Also author-admin of Snorkfest.com, she was kind enough to divulge to us the secret to her success as a writer.
Without further ado...
Recently, the fine folks at Prose asked me if I’d mind sharing details of my writing process with their community. Well, I must say, I was flattered that anyone would think I actually have one. But after some consideration, I realized that I do. It isn’t particularly remarkable, but it’s mine, and it looks something like this:
I wake up in the morning (always a blessing) at 6:30 and let my neighbor, Donato, drag me to the gym. Then my trainer, Mike, abuses me for about an hour. After that, I hobble home, walk the dog, drink two cups of coffee, and then…
Wait for it…
I shower.
It’s here that the magic happens. For some reason, I do my best thinking in the shower. It may be the white noise of the running water or the relaxation of the act itself after all that physical activity. Whatever the case, the shower flips a switch in my brain.
Some days, the creative thoughts come at a rapid pace; in 5 minutes, I might come up with fodder for 3 or 4 blog posts. On other days, my mind takes a more scenic, languid route – I’ll daydream about an idea, get distracted by random, incoming thoughts, then eventually circle back to the original concept. These are bad days…for my skin. For my blog, however, there are no bad days as long as I’m coming up with content - which brings us to the dreaded subject of “writer’s block.”
On the archery range, it’s called “target panic.” To an actor, it’s known as “stage fright.” For the author, it’s “writer’s block.” Well, I have some very encouraging news for you: it doesn’t exist. In my opinion (not that you asked for it, but Prose did – just sayin’), “writer’s block,” and the other aforementioned phenomena, is nothing more than a momentary lack of confidence. This minor mental hiccup is occasionally triggered by a dearth of inspiration. It is fleeting and benign if I don’t pay any attention to it. To acknowledge it as anything more powerful is just asking for trouble.
Let me tell you what I do when I’m feeling a little stuck…(and no, I don’t jump into the nearest shower)… I take a Prose challenge. These challenges are fantastic exercises for getting the creative juices flowing. Recently, I set a goal to accept at least one challenge per day - whether I need it or not. They keep me in the game, even when I just don’t feel like playing.
Another quick pick-me-up is to read. I recommend reading something you love, written by an author you admire. This always manages to inspire me. Or, you can take the flip side to this approach by reading a published piece that you consider utter and outright garbage. Pour over it. Take it in. Then read a piece that you’ve written. In comparison, your own literature will seem like something from Shakespeare, composed on his very best day. See what a great writer you are?
Rejoice!
Whether the act of writing is a labor of love or a cathartic necessity, the experience should be one you look forward to. Set yourself up with whatever outlet allows you to achieve your goals and pursue your dreams. Fire up that computer. Take out your paper and crayons.
Don’t hold out on us.
I hope you share your work. I’d like to read it.
-Anita
Be sure to follow her here, on Twitter, and Instagram @AnitaRosner. You can also see more of her work by visiting www.snorkfest.com.
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Stay tuned here each week for more in this #MondayBlogs series— designed to educate and inspire you from the inside out. We’ll give you insights and resources from the literary industry at large as well as exclusives about your own world of words:
-Prose.