Freewrite #3 Slice Slash CutFreewrite 3Running, jumping, slashing, slicing, moving, grooving, coughing, hacking. Slice slash cut away the layer. Yellow ice melting in a clear glass. Running, so much running. Mind numbing, cleansing.
Freewrite #2 A WaltzFreewrite 2Sleep, night nightshade a beat with sunglass. So heavy in the night sky pink silver I don't even make sense write right now, I know. Bags, weight, weights, sunlight hitting the barre through the window, it splintered in some places. A clash, a crash, splintering, spreading, going out in all directions, different ends of the spectrum, I'm so tired. A dull ache in my lumbar spine and cold joints. Why is this happening? Two differences clashing into noise. My shoes are a little dirty, I should wash them. My backpack. Water. Yawn. Losing interest fast. How much longer? Wish I was wearing more layers, I'm a little chilly. Snow, not quite snow. It's hot outside, but cold in here. I'm getting twitchy I can't believe it. It. It. It. La dee da dum my mind is empty. There's nothing there, no beautiful and intriguing images. Just nothing 12345678123412121234123, 123, 123, 123, 3, 333333333333333433333 shoes time. I'm not making any sense. My fricking body
Freewrite #1: Poolside People Partying PerfectlyFreewrite #1Dancing in the dark my ear itches swirling twirling whirling breath sweet relief, my dear. So very relieved hungry and tired too. Water is good, water is great come on let's all celebrate. Fever you can't eat up with black wool and pink flowers. Swirl, twirl, swirl, twirl. Kind of ready for some fun, tons of it, loads of it such exhaustion in my blood, such exhaustion is there. How much time has passed, am I done yet? Jesus. Jesus. Christ my arm is tired from strength work. Whorl. Whorling. Whirl. Whirling. I love my toes. They flex, point, flex point. Ah why? Chicken. Chick. Writing writing Just keep writing just keep writing. Shoulder burning. Flame throwing, kick licking, muck growing, glow mowing down the cars around the rocks they go. I see a desert in my brain, a giant, sandy brown and blue desert. So thirsty. One cloud. Tiny. Lots of sand. Burning. Pink dots slide across the paper, chipping. Black ink inking. Apparently an "ing" trip is happenING soo yes indeed. Ind