‘My soul grazes like a lamb on the beauty of indrawn tides’
Gorgeous line, Pat Conroy. Now do you think I could write something like that?
*tapping on head*
“Come on, ideas. Shake out.”
*tapping harder*
“Nothing? Oh, come ON now.”
*bangs head against wall*
“Seriously, that ought to shake SOMETHING out.”
*a thought starts to stir!*
“Ibuprofen? That’s all you can say? Brain, what am I going to do with you?”
*torrent of thoughts dumps into my conscious — I’m too overwhelmed to even think to grab a pen*
*conscious smiles slyly*
I sigh.
“OK, Muse. Next time I ask, I’ll be near my computer. ”
Dear Muse — the ideas? Thanks for them. Now to see if they’ll hold till I get home. And seriously, you want me to make her do WHAT with WHOM?!?! Shame on you, you cheap whore! I mean, lovely Muse. Lovely, lovely Muse. I will indulge you, then, as long as the thoughts actually start to make sense at some point. Love, Moi.
November — a month when it’s perfectly acceptable to have schizophrenia. 🙂