Writing is a game - 100 words

Writing is a game played on the keyboard. The rules are pretty flexible and will often change from one round to another. Sometimes it's best to throw the rules out the window and dance around the page till you bump your head on something sharp. Fall down, get up and flail about once again. Maybe this time you will trip over an ottoman and launch into 300 words on Mary Tyler Moore and the sacrilege of the Rob and Laura beds. Really, how did they ever have a son? Where was I? Oh yes, playing around with mind and page.

Bone jewelry and enemas - 100 words

The only thing creepier than dreams about ninjas attacking me in motel rooms is the ads that are showing up on my computer after researching those dreams online. Handsome men and ugly women in shining armor on motorcycles trying to sell me hot yoga, human bone jewelry and enemas.

To deflect the ads I searched for Katy Perry and Hello Kitty but that just made things worse. I can't even describe the images the internet tried to sell me. So I searched for monster trucks and punk rock. Now I'm being offered doom and gloom but it's better than enemas.

Random Thoughtsv- 9/7/15

It was one of those days where everyone on the train was young, except me.

I feel like I've been kicked off a sinking ship.

Leaving a job, parting out my work to others, is like peeling a bitter artichoke.

It's easy to see new horizons when your sitting in a just-used ejector seat.

Random thoughts

What does it say about me that I envy the infirmed for their convalescence.

...and then the judge said, "Let the record show that Mr. Flanders is visibly distraught."

You can't have the trump without the rump.

Across the wasteland of depression I stop to rest briefly at the oasis of creativity and write a poem about a dead mouse.

100 Words - Daze

A sour note blown from a reedless saxophone startles me back to awareness. I don't know where I am or how I got here. At the end of the block the street signs tell me I'm only a few miles from home. Deep thoughts lulled me into a sleepwalk of sorts. The dogs are having a ball. New places to smell. New trees to mark. For a moment I consider calling for a ride, but figure the explanation would take longer than the walk. The old dogs are tired and take turns being carried. We get home just past midnight.

100 Words - Vegas

Rolling down hills like little kids. Falling off bridges like jilted lovers. Gravity's angels fulfilling their destinies. Imperfect lives connecting villains and heroes. Knowing which is which is the trick. Smiling faces telling lies. Angry threats speak the truth. Hearts hesitate then yield, at once regretting a choice that was the only option. Daydreaming of gods while trolling for fools. Walking down sidewalks at dusk avoiding the eyes of strangers. Wanting a quiet one, knowing you need a loud one. A flash of silver catches the eye. Loneliness shrieks in recognition then runs away. The night finds you alone again.

100 Words - Weeping

Where were they? I needed them and they weren't there. Or I needed them but I wasn't there. Why do they weep? I see them now in the mirror of nostalgia and see that I missed them and they me but such is life and we all must move on. Should I weep for them? Is that what the past is? Tears for the ones we should have known? Are they sad because they see me now and wish they knew me then? I wasn't this me then. I was a previous, inferior me. I had nothing to offer them.