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 |   Now a residence for BC and BCOF items. Random bloggisness wil apear in POTPOURRI. |
Hello!? Is anyone there?? Knock if you want in!   ** Image ID #1975123 Unavailable ** ~~Image #1500358 Sharing Restricted~~ ** Image ID #1646857 Unavailable **  This blog contains only items derived from specific prompts. I'm too stubborn to take the time to post the prompt that the entry is based on. So if you don't understand whats going on - well, I dunno - I guess that just means you don't understand. I would also like to invite you to take a look at my other blog:
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BCOF: Start writing something and the ideas will come. Yeah - That's write - I mean correct. A lot of times I have an idea and then sit down to write something about the idea, then forget the idea by the time I pick up my pencil, but start writing anyway, and a lotta times end up with something I like better than what I think I may have had if I had stuck with the original idea that I had in the first place - I don't know if it's automatic writing or stream of consciousness, probably a little of both, or maybe just psycoticness - anyway I do it a lot, so I'm just gonna stick in an example.
Blog City: Life isn't about finding yourself it's about creating yourself, unless you created yourself and got lost. Then I guess it would be about re-finding yourself. But seriously, the main thing in life is creating yourself. You hav.... I almost said you have to take responsibility for yourself - I meant you SHOULD take responsibility for yourself! Most people try not to take responsibility for the life they create - They just blame it on someone else. They may say they are responsible for their creation until their art-work falls off the wall and breaks, then it's someone else's fault. Luckily lives can be re-found and re-created over and over again. There is forgiveness and redemption in the world. I know. I've both given and received a lot of it. And I feel I still have a few more selves to create. |
| BCOF- Of course bad news sells better than good news. Watch, or listen to, or read the news. News is being offered to you for profit. Even, in some cases, when news could be considered good, it's given a bad slant, so it will sell better. I used to blame the news providers for just showing us the bad. Then I realized that they had to give the public what they want. Apparently most people are ghouls. In my blog I do not equate negativity with bad. My negativity can often be good news. I'm sure no one has noticed, but I can sometimes be sarcastic.  Blog City - The uses of trees are manifold. I'm just going to write some excerpts from one of my many works in progress. My walk has become the journey of a lifetime.........I just walked into the forest yesterday.........I've talked to the elder trees. They told me I can't return. They have sheltered my home and their's for eons. They have watched their young die of fire, disease and murder, but they endure. They have taken me into their family......This morning, when I arose from the moss, I followed the stream into the forest, watched the colors, smelled the aromas, investigated movement, questioned. I talked to the trees and questioned everything. Slowly answers came......And the unending questions, the multiplying unanswerable questions that nature asks of itself and of me, as I am now, an integral part of nature. |
| Blog City - Good writing is saying something. Good reading is understanding something. A writer can explain anything they wish to the world. They can explain their loneliness, their goals, their fear and their dread. Their hopes, their passions and their pains - pains of body heart and mind. No person needs to read it; the world is always listening. Sometimes a person does read it. If they are a good reader they can take a lot away from it. They can learn more about their own emotions. It can teach them to look for reasons. It can help them to draw their own conclusions. Writing is cathartic for both the good reader and the good writer. Some writing is not good - meaningless empty stories. Some people are not good readers - it seems they just can't comprehend. A funny thing though. A good reader can easily gain something from reading good writing; an excellent reader can often gain a lot from poor writing. Reading between the lines and stimulating your own imagination can lead to finding magical stories, hidden in the pages of drearydom. (I don't think this has much to do with the prompt, but this is what it prompted me to say.) BCOF - I thought the first giant step for man was fantastic. I'm just sorry that mankind has been so slow to follow in his steps. In 1969 I assumed I would have lunch somewhere on one of Jupiters moons before I die. I have pretty much given up hope. |
| Chupacabras Drink Milk The chupacabra slunk through the wet grass. His lank wet fur dragging in the dirt. He was eyeing Daisy the lovely Holstein with mixed emotions. He had been admiring her from afar for many days. He had been lusting after her. Her full udder - his lust for milk. Daisy was grazing peacefully when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Terror - A terrified MOO bellowed through the mist. But then Chupy caught her in his hypnotic stare. He slowly crept forward until their wet black noses were touching. Luckily, for Daisy, the hypnotic stare of the chupacabra acts as an anesthetic, so she didn't feel it when Chupy's fangs tore into her udder. As Chupy was frantically trying to lap up the milk from the ruptured, overflowing udder, without spilling too much, Farmer Brown walked up in tears. Luckily he had his trusty shotgun with him. He blew Chupy's guts to smithereens. With Chupy's dying breath he moaned to both Daisy and Farmer Brown, "You really shouldn't cry over spilt milk", and then with a kick and a groan he died. With Farmer Brown's timely first aid, Daisy did recover. |
| BCOF Struggling down the path, I look up and see myself. Why do I struggle? What difference does it make? I relax and take what is. BC One thing for certain. I am coming to a thought. I know I can think. That is all that has to be, To understand, I am me. Two more Tanka |
| What is the difference between empathy and sympathy? Whitman certainly new. A sympathetic poet can understand, an empathetic poet can be. Will my heart fit within yours? Or yours in mine? Must I just touch your heart or can our souls bleed as one? Field of strawberries, reflecting in the moonlight. My lips bleed the juice. I'm practicing trying to say much, in few words. |
My blog is a book by golly. A book by any other name would be a blog - certainly not a rose, in my case. My blog is a random collection of fact and fiction and opinion and imagination - Just like real life, (mine anyway). What is a book? The very first thing I posted in my port was Chapter 1, of my Philosophy 101. I went into great detail explaining that I really don't know what a book is. I decided that anything written down and between book covers is a book. But then I get confused because I'm too old to understand electronic books.  Isn't an old fashioned diary or journal a book? Lotsa those been published. Isn't an autobiography just a journal? Isn't a fabulous fictitious fantasy just a psychotic, scizophrenic journey through some blog? Speaking of journey's, I have been having many lately: Mind trips, auto trips, foot trips, plane trips, train trips and bus trips, (some falling down trips too! (bad pun.  ) Most trips never seem to go as planned. But why worry? Plans are made to be broken - No, wait, that's rules. Isn't it? Whatever. I've had too many crazy experiences on trips to possibly remember, or describe. I even get the memories of mind trips mixed up with vehicular trips.  Like the one where I was stroking the hair of the pretty girl who had fallen asleep with her head on my lap on the train. She morphed Into an old homeless man with no teeth.  I usually try not to make any more plans than I have to, then I don't have the problem of them going awry. I have probably had just as much fun, anyway, on some of my layovers as I've had at my final destination. I could publish a blog of travel: A Travelogue of The Mind, The Road, The Sky and Everywhere In Between. Oh My God! I just realized I haven't said anything about ships.....Blah, Blah.......On and on........ |
| BCOF Prompt. The so called intellectual, who believes he is relying solely on his logic, is far from intellectual, in my opinion. Intellect is empty without emotion. The only poor souls who can believe in logic without paradox are those who are dead in the heart. When emotion fills the heart and the soul, the mind can soar! No intellect can possibly understand the nature of reality until it has waded in the stream of it's own, personal feelings. BC If I don't do at least a half a days work by 10:00 AM., it might mean I haven't gone to bed yet. Or it might mean, I don't really give a damn, my dear, and don't plan to do any work at all! |
| It was a dark night and I was walking down the path to the bridge that crosses Tickle-Cap Creek. "Oh my GOD", I thought, as I got close and saw the eerie glow emanating over the bridge and reflecting in the murky creek water. "I bet it's those damned witches, boiling up another batch of that creepy stew." It always makes me so angry when I gotta smell that stuff. But then I noticed that the glow was different. It was usually a dark purple glow with some yellow in it. This glow was WHITE! Can't be witches! When I got closer I was startled to see a white glowing angel squating next to a miniature stew pot. The petite winged little creature was stirring the pot. It stunk like hell. "Oh my GOD!", I thought again! Guess this means I won't be bothered by them witches no more. That sure does smell like witch soup! |
| I don't believe apologies are ever NECESSARY. They are often useful. I apologize often when I want to make someone feel better, when they THINK I have done something wrong. I have apologized lots of times for being arrogant, even though I'm really humble. Once when I had done something exceedingly well, I danced, happily around in a circle, like a little sparrow, chirping, "Look at me, Look at me, ain't I great! ain't I great!" I apologized.  Just realized I hadn't blogged in a while. I will soon be gone for a month, so I figured I should post something so people didn't forget about me.Sparrows |
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