A linear thought.... unlikely.

Ahhhh freedom! freedom from audience, freedom from judgement and speelcheck! A new cardboard box that givin the proper dose of imagination can become the greatest of ships. A place for all of the things that come into my mind and never see the light of day. Finally a dark quite corner free from apology, free from mindless banter yet will be nothing but..... Most importantly, free from the fucking "Like" button. An unnecessary diatribe. HERE. WE. GO.


It is Thanksgiving, and I posted on facebook what I was thankful for. The initial purpose of my post was to say thank you to one specific person for what they have endured, however, like most thoughts that manage to escape and find their way into the pixelated universe... blaaaaaa. (this is great, for any other piece that I would attempt to put together I would have searched my lexicon for just the right word. Without the fear of judgement I believe the word "blaaaa" will work beautifully!)

Thankful. Thankful for sacrifice. Thankful for altruism. Thankful for selflessness. Thankful for each and every one of the men and women of our armed services that continue to endure unimaginable hardships, departed from their loved ones, that I may spend this time with mine. THANK YOU.

What is it about the virtual pen and pad that stifles our creative thoughts? I can say honestly and without boast that I had half a dozen brilliant ideas in the silent 15 minute drive home tonight and as soon as my fingers touch the keyboard I am mentally mute. All of the hopes that I had for this first post have thus far dissolved to little more than a title that I can hardly spell and a regurgitation of a thought that I had on FB earlier. The beauty is that this is my answer to FB. I will admit it, I am addicted. If I post something that I find to be even slightly clever I will check my status a dozen times to see if anyone commented. This is a search for gratification. My hope is that no one, no one, ever reads this..... If you do, you are wasting a perfectly good minute. This is not to say that a stroke of genius will never be reviled on this forum just don't ever count on it being on the surface. This is a very unpolished turd and I will make no apologies for that; for this is my turd.

At every moment we are who we are, we can choose to embrace it or we can create a fable so convoluted that we never know our true self. In this moment I am smitten. I am thinking about someone a thousand miles away who I have never even met. I am a hopeless romantic. I am recovering from my minds perfect fable. mind. mine(d)field. Is love the answer or is it the question? haha 3 degrees of separation from a Pat Benatar reference. It's a battlefield not a minefield, but I believe she was on to something. Did she even write that song? Thoughts. Censored. Where was I?? who cares, no one will ever read this! Liberated! This must be how all those Iraqis felt when we parachuted into their capitol...

I wrote a book one time. Can you imagine wading through 100+ pages of THIS?!?!?!