Writing is like Poison Oak

These musings.. these words.. they annoy me. I didn’t say anything. . did not ask for it. My skin is on fire for standing too closely to an idea of something.. scratching an itch that does not go away. Persists it does from deep in the marrow, leaving a trail of itch that festers just below the surface of my skin. I may die tomorrow and will have not done a damn thing! My accomplishments would fit on the flap of a book of matches – in small print.

But who cares? The man on the corner sifting treasures to swap for a smidgeon of scrap does not. There in his eyes you will see that he is his own measure struggling to be alive.

A housewife longs to be understood. She longs to participate, but can’t remember how. She toils with her own understanding to know purpose. As her kids grow, so too does her longing to regress to earlier days; to have a second chance.

A large wave crashed on top of us. The impact forced us under to fight against a current that was relentless. I was told to suit up. Flashing lights echoed through a tight steel hallway that pitched from starboard to aft, rolling violently.

The harness was buckled into the life suit that tethered me to the railing just down below the wheel house where shadows were cast from instrument lights as they chartered and scrambled to deal with keeping us afloat.

Published by darren thompson

hello invisible people, I have lived well and continue to live well enough. I hope the same for you. Writing during a pandemic with catastrophic wildfires, hurricanes, economic collapse, political strife, and toxic air means one tends to be pretty sedentary. I am reminded of our last trip to Cartagena, Colombia and the gang of sloths hanging out in the trees. Funny, I don't think sloths are ever behind schedule though. The book, FALLEN, is near completion. I know I've said this before, but I am definitely in the final lap with it. Though, I have not settled on the publishing or marketing of it, yet. I am not even sure how I will use this website. Admittedly, I've been writing on this bit for the better part of ten years. My mind has been wrapped around some weird urban sci-fi-fantasy junk. Feels like a twisted premonition of what is happening today. On another creative front, I am setting up a new website called: vomitpages.com which I am kind of excited about. These are writings and ramblings and musings of life when I am out of the flow with writer's block. There projects within projects there. Oh, I live in the Columbia River Gorge of the PACIFIC NORTHWEST. My characters are way more interesting. thanks.

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