There are times I even get trapped in there. Kind of like in a maze. Just wandering about, wondering about so many things. Of course, now that I want to write about it, none of the things that I actually think about are coming back to me.
Maybe it’s because at the heart of most my internal thoughts, they are just random things that matter so little that a hill of beans has more consequence.
The other half of those thoughts tend to be about my writing. The stories of fancy, whimsy, and really awesome stuff. Sadly, those get stuck in my head and never see the light of day. Instead, you are left with what ever dribble my mental faculties decide to regurgitate back to you. Pretty, I know.
Seriously though, I don’t believe my writing is that horrible and I’m not looking for you to bolster my confidence, that was mainly said in snark. Something I am told I excel at (especially when it comes to my self).
But if you see me gazing mindlessly at nothing in particular, there is a really good chance that in that moment what you are witnessing is the birthing of a thousand solar systems, a romantic tale being spun, a grand and epic battle of clashing swords and magic… or me debating on whether or not I have to go poop.
Yep, got to end it on a poop joke.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Cut Off.”