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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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| Blog City: My first car was a 1960 hard top Thunderbird convertible. White with red and white leather interior. No, I did not give it a name. It was a used car and already had a name. BCOF: Today is National Good Neighbor Day. Today I cut off my beautiful shoulder length hair and shaved my head. And that my friends is one of my very few true stories.  |
| Versification. The movement from here to there. Perambulation. ---------- Quote for what I think about elections: If you cook anything long enough it boils down to nonsense. ......Anonymous..... ----------- The instinct to quit begets a desire of sorts. Restart your engines. |
Cryptomnesia, how to look at it. I find that most people totally confuse cause and effect. Usually the people who believe time to be an absolute. And the people who don't understand that grammar and spelling are pliable. like playdoh. Doh!   But I was talking about cryptomnesia, I think. Yes. It isn't a memory 'quirk', just 'memory'. If you look at cause and effect from one direction memory is just imagination. Take a step back. Turn round and round four times, Now look at cause and effect from the opposite direction. Now imagination is just memory. Intercalate different made-up sentences at various points into your flow of memination, (or imagimory, if you prefer that direction), and you will have a decent story about reality........The End. Or. The Beginning. Depending On What Direction You Are Coming At The Question From. I just remembered. I have a folder of vignettes entitled: Memories of Future Imagination. Very applicable. |
| Hello. I've been ignoring my writing dreadfully. No. That isn't a good word. I haven't been full of dread. Maybe lazily is a better word? No. Lazily brings to my mind, "Lazily drifting down the creek in a rowboat, without oars, getting sunburned", and I refuse to believe I'm EVER lazy! I guess I just use the word laze to mean relaxed, or maybe getting my eyes lazed out of their orbits by a lazer when I think I am just drifting lazily down the creek with the sun in my eyes because I was too lazy to close them? Why the hell am I ending some sentences that are declarative in my mind with question marks on the page. (I used a period there on purpose even though that sentence is interrogative) I need some Anti-Upspeak-Medication, or AUM for you laymen, or laywomen. I think I've lost my train of thought now. Choo Choooo! The Megafauna and pan of the many pipes compete with the fawn. ...........Haiku by Ricardo the Centaur |
| BCOF and BC: An intertwining. So here I am. Upside down. In a woman..........I remember........ Searching obsessively. I must find the job. I'm made for the job. The job of my lifetime. The job I was made for. Moving rapidly down the hallway, my lucky hallway, wriggling in anticipation, my hallway 13. The walls of sheen steel beginning to pulse, becoming the slime coated cave that I remembered. Rushing toward the door, fighting my way to the door, wriggling between the others. I see the light. The light of the door. I hear the voice. Beckoning. The voice calling me as I reach the door. Telling me I am the one. The small door allowing me passage. Wriggling through the rubbery doorway. Yes says the voice. You are the one. Bathed in light I have achieved my goal. |
| BCOF: What is the rule I find the hardest to follow? I refuse to answer that question! In fact I can not answer that question! I do not BELIEVE in the existence of RULES! Instead I will provide a short discourse on the Theory of Rules. First one must differentiate between "Rule" and "Law". A rule is admittedly an opinion and can be broken without repercussions, while a law is more of a truth which, if violated, may result in a much more severe reprisal by man or nature. Here we shall discuss "Rules" and leave "Laws" for another day. (I also do not believe in laws, by the way.) Rules are designed for the maintenance of the status quo. Created by the unimaginative who are only capable, it seems, of creating something designed to hamper the creativity of others. I had planed to continue with a tirade, accusing the Rule Makers of conspiring to stifle all if the potential for discovery and creation in the human soul. Perhaps I have said enough. Please don't get me started on "Laws". Especially those so-called "Laws of Nature"!   |
| BCOF: I was questioning my daughter about her new friend from the park when I discovered that he was not a new friend at all. "Oh no, Daddy. I have known him as long as I can remember." For some reason she blushed and acted shy. Looking younger than her 12 years, in her braids and sundress, she went on to tell me about this little boy. "The first time I can remember seeing him was down by the creek. He was turning over rocks and looking for salamanders. He told me how you could throw them in a fire, and how they wouldn't burn up at all, just turn crispy. Then when you dumped water on the fire to put it out they get all soft and slimy again and wake right back up. His mom lives back that way, just outside the park, in a tent, by the creek. His name is Iron. His mom named him that because she has a pan made out of iron that she has had for like for EVER. For a long time when I came to the park to see him we would wade in the creek. And talk and look for salamanders, and frogs, and bugs, and snakes, and toads. You know? Now I don't see him so often any more. I don't know why. Maybe he doesn't like me as much. But I think he does. I hope he does. Now sometimes we just sit on a rock together and hold hands. You know. And talk. And stuff." This sounded very curious to me. I wondered why I had never heard of this little boy before. I asked her what this little boy looked like and how old he was. "Oh Daddy, I don't know how old he is, but Irony looks JUST LIKE ME. |
| Blog City: I believe the only "duty" anyone has, be they author or plumber, poet or farmer, or homeless lady lost in the crowd, is duty to one's "self". Everyone is an activist, agitating for their own happiness. Some are lucky enough to see that the happiness of mankind is the only true way to personal happiness. Activism Universalism is not a duty, but a privilege. |
| I enjoy interacting with those who do not give a damn about trying to be politically correct. Or those who are clever enough to make you believe that they are speaking of something which they are actually tip-toeing around. I truly HATE, (there are not many things I hate), listening to someone who just speaks out of stupidity rather than intellect. Kind of like the difference between Mark Twain and Donald Trump. Statements like these sometimes lose me friends, but what the f**k, who gives a s***! |
| BCOF I have far to many fantasies to choose a favorite. There is black magic and white, and so many shades in between. What makes my fantasies so magical is the multicolored hues of my most magical thinking. Princess Zoey The demure beauty lowers her eyes as she catches sight of my glance. I know she is above my station A poor humble man such as me. Could I ever hope to claim a princess such as she? My heart beats aloud in me. What a foolish notion, but then I see an eyelid raising, a trembling chin. My emotions swirl deep within. I fall to my knees and when my eyes meet hers she smiles into my soul and I blush. I plant my heart forever at her feet. |
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