I have so many notebooks. They are filled to the brim with words written by little old me. I want to share some of my creative writing over the years.
Feb. 11th, 2001
The first droplet of the cotton candy flavor caresses my tongue. A burst of cool sweetness hits my taste buds invoking a delightful pleasure in the summer sun. Memories associated with this taste begin to flow in my mind like a river into the ocean. The pink cloud of cotton candy disintegrates on my tongue slowly and deliciously. Every mouthful inspiring the child within to come running out and play. Laughter of summers gone by are heard within the breeze that floats past my ears. The joy and freedom of the summer are all conveyed in this one singular moment. The sensation of devouring the saccharine candy made of a cotton-like substance is expressed through my contented emotions. The child that has been hidden by the stress has now fully come out. In one gulp eats the rest and wishes for more.
Oct 25th, 2004 (?)
The putrid odor of a rotted dairy product dances up to my nostrils uninvited, unwanted and unexpected.
Oct 26th 2004
The tiniest droplet of pain. A deadly scrap of paper has made the smallest mark yet cause me much grief as it attacked my finger with it’s thin edge. Who knew that a harmless piece of paper could be so cruel to an undeserving pinky finger. The feeling of pain only occurs for a moment then all goes back to the way it always was.
The bottom of my feet sting and pinch me and cause massive discomfort. I am at work and it feels as if I have been standing for a year. It’s as if millions of tiny red ants are attacking the bottom of my precious feet. All I want to do is remove the pressure my body has placed upon my feet and get some relief and relaxation. I imagine myself as an explorer who has just taken a journey across far away lands and who’s feet are caloused and bruised from the adventure. It is painful to walk, to stand and I begin to limp impishly across my little area as I work behind the bar. The stores merchandise which is perched upon shelves become tall trees in the jungle of my mind’s adventure. I am foraging for a place to rest but there are lions in these parts of the jungle. My feet take on an attitude all of their own and do not wish to cooperate with the rest of my body. I see a predator has emerged from the darkness. It’s confused and doesn’t know which way is up or down and somehow believes I have the answer. I approach with caution. Any sudden movement might send the predator in a rage of sorts. My wristwatch beeps and I realize I’m in a bright store and my shift is over which means I no longer need to deal with the threat of conversing with another human being.