I will write fast. I will write slow. I will try to write whatever I know. I shall write what comes to my mind, slowly, images will form in my head of the events of the day, some will make me happy, some will make me sad. I will try to learn from the sad and cherish the happy moments. The sad moments have disappeared. They are gone, I have now. Now I think. Now I type. What do I write? This? That? I will write ’ to hell with you’. To hell with you. Huh? Paragraph…
How’s that for thought. Caught you? Nope? OK…You win this time…There’s always next. I can prove I am superior. I have no pride. An oxymoron.
Remember the attempt. The attempt to write like a paranoid schizophrenic or someone on an acid trip? What good did come by it? What good is coming out of writing all this? Is anyone reading? Who’s appreciative? Who’s sarcastic? Who’s watching? Type…Type watcher…Watcher…Pause…
What is being written? Is it making sense? Is it the truth? Is it a make believe? A show? A freak show? Or a lectern? Depends on what the hearer makes of it. Too much sense. Concentrate…Cut the reigns…
End now? Keep going? Too long, too boring, too short, abrupt…End smooth…
Finishing paragraph…
[Fill in your own]
^^…
clever…