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 |  Re-dedicated - April 1, 2021, Brother Nature's views from the Winnipeg River SE Manitoba |
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My Writing.com experience continues...30 Day Blog Challenger, Andre the blog Monkey's Banana Bar Founder, Aging Baby Boomer. Here you'll find a warm welcome, maybe I'll make you laugh out loud - That's my goal. Thanks for visiting. |
I'M BEGINNING TO LIKE THIS BLOG ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** YOU CAN TOO  MUSE APPROVED ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** 30 Day Blogging Challenge PROMPT for January 25, 2020 CREATION SATURDAY! Put on your creative thinking caps  You're headed down to Imagination Station to pick up your imaginary friend. Tell us about the friend - is it human? Humanoid? Animal? Talking banana? Three-headed monster who's afraid of heating blankets? What's their story? Likes/Dislikes? What name do they answer to? Why are they in your life? Don't forget to tell us how your friend ended up at the station in the first place! This is one of those gut-churning prompts that force me out of my comfort zone and obligate me to expose the raw, emotionally draining, truth of the traumatic experiences of my past imagined relationships. I was almost healed, well, as healed as one can expect. All the hours of attending imagination over-load support group sessions, and the many years of dealing with the pain through medicating and self-medicating, which is still medicating! is in jeopardy of being undone, because now I have to re-live the past emotional, imagined abuse and suffering I endured at the hands of my imagined past. Paranoia is not one of my delusions, but I can't help but think that this prompt was written to somehow antagonize me directly, or maybe there is a deeper conspiracy going on here directed, secretly, by the imagined 1%. As the prompter is fully aware, there is nobody waiting for me at Imagination Station. Not a friend, that's a fact. I bet the station is as busy with imaginated travelers, coming and going and making connections just like it was in the past when I associated with imagined friends. (I still can't bring myself to calling them, friends.) For the record, I'll clear up the notion that is widely held, which is... Andre the Blog Monkey is an imaginary friend of mine. He is not! Andre is an imagined business partner of mine, who is contracted to provide content for my writing efforts. When he's not doing that, he works independently on the Writing Dot Com site inspiring others to inject creativity and humor into their work. Sometimes Andre may only make a reader smile or wonder momentarily about something that would have not otherwise occurred the reader. That! is what Andre the Blog Mokey's job is. Andre is also a self-made bizzilionaire, and I've always said, "If you want to be successful, you have to surround yourself with successful people/muses. Additionally, Andre contracts the retail spaces at the Imagination Stations Inc. locations around the world. So if you buy a package of mints at an I-Station, thank a monkey. I know what goes on at Imagination Station, but I'm staying far far away, those imagined freaks are no friends of mine. At one time they were, or so I thought. We had some fun times in the past, those times are long gone and only serve to remind me that an imagined friend is not a loyal friend. Like the time when I was hanging with Goober, Stoney Joe, Evil Bulwealval, and the Mayhem Monkeys. We were having a rave party. I was having the best time of my life, and sure, maybe I was drinking a little too much, and smoking a little too much, and drinking a little too much, but... fun is fun and you can't beat fun. Then you learn who your friends really are once the police get involved. Why didn't Evil Bulwealval offer to drive? Evil B always did the driving in bad weather and is always eager to take the wheel during episodes of road rage, but as soon as the cops ask for the license and registration Evil B is nowhere to be found. Then when you tell the officer that it was Giant Rabbit's idea to go out and buy more booze, Giant Rabit is not there to accept responsibility. The only thing Giant Rabbit does for you is making the officers tighten those handcuffs another couple of clicks and fill out the paperwork to take a blood sample and search your house for illegal drugs. Now I'm starting to get angry all over again. It took me a lot of time to learn that these imagined friends are not very good friends at all, and my life would be much less dramatic and tragic without them involved in it. This is why I excommunicated all of them, even Sexy Sadie, who I miss the most, oh yeah... Sexy Sadie. I picked her up at the station more often than I want to admit, in fact, I deny ever spending hours of each day with her. I don't know Sexy Sadie. What are you talking about? Do me a favor, assumed and imagined reader. Forget everything I just wrote. I do have an imaginary friend waiting for me at the Imagination Station. I'll go pick her up a little later on. She's always there, waiting just for me. She looks like I want her to look like and wears what I imagine her wearing. Turn off the lights on your way out. Giggity. |
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your comment. I've done some time curled up. The thumb-sucking never gets old, but the games get boring, and once you've seen all the videos the real world becomes a welcome lifestyle change.
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