I told a friend, who gets as much of a kick from taking the piss as I do, that I I cannot write as I am all blocked up. He told me to take a laxative.
Funny one smartass.
All I know is that I have a million thoughts a minute. Perhaps the curse of the creative block is the inability to write as fast as I think.
I remember going out at about age 6 half dressed, funny the things we remember. I must of been dressing and at some point gotten bored by this activity and shifted my attention.
When someone noticed; they could very well have just told me they thought it looked like rain out, by my calm reaction.
Now the thought alone of walking around half naked makes me blush a bit and I’m really not so conservative. Well maybe a touch.
I just wander where along the way we started caring so much. My favorite once witnessed a little girl bouncing around a room practicing her ballet, his reaction-
Now if I just broke out in dance people would think I was mad.
Yes, they would for some reason adults walking around half naked or breaking out in dance sporadically, is socially unacceptable to the point of being frowned upon.
No one will be stepping on your blue suede shoes, don’t bother shining them up, they are going to be hidden at the back of your cupboard until people learn to relax and regain their sense of humor.
As he who dreams about a cabin in the woods always says-
Why so serious?
I think therefore I write 