Free writing. Not really free since the community of words that exist inside my being never all make it out alive. I think, then I have a desire to speak, I go about speaking what is on my mind, but my mind never stops. It doesn’t wait for my hands, or pen and paper, or the keys on a keyboard, for a webpage to load. It just keeps going. And so my original thought is lost in a stampede of thoughts that were never there before and I am surprised at how suddenly they came about and how quickly they rushed forward; how they were able to overtake the one that started it all. The one that started it all… God… Me… Not me. Not that way. That’s another thing. My mind sometimes goes places I don’t want it to. And I don’t understand this. Since it is a part of me, how can it not be aware of the places that I don’t want to visit, that I don’t want to remember? Why does it constantly stumble upon, or run towards, places, corners, and alleys that I’m scared of, that hurt me before, that I don’t want to be reminded of? Why does it not understand that I need time, a lot of time, to recover from what happened there, and there; from all the things that happened in all those places? See sometimes it likes to pretend it’s a psychologist. Those darned movies. Where else would it get all those ideas from? Oh what happened in your childhood? It all goes back to there. How was your relationship with your father? Your mother? Were you a happy child? Did anything happen in your childhood that may have caused your like or dislike for this particular thing? Crap crap crap blah blah blah and it goes on. One time I caught it analyzing me in the bathroom at church. In the bathroom! I shook my head, snapped out of it, and went inside. Why does it do that? I hate when it’s right before bed. I need to sleep, but it wants to ask questions about the future and the present and how I feel. No. I want to sleep. I need to wake up tomorrow. Wish to God that was optional. It’s most alive in my bedroom. No one bothers it there, that’s probably why. It’s big and proud, though I don’t know why. It’s not like it has a degree in anything. It only knows whatever it knows because of all those movies it watched as I was growing up. What did you see when you were little? You must have seen something to make you do this now. I did see something, but I wasn’t that little. It was so long ago anyway. But I have heard stories of people and long ago, and now. They couldn’t have all been lies. Maybe my long ago does have something to do with my now. But it was so long ago. … I just glanced at the time twice after trying hard not to. I’m supposed to do this for twenty minutes; free writing. Not sure how free this is though since I’ve been on that backspace key like yellow on mac and cheese. I like that simile there. I was going to use white on rice first but that’s kind of old. I think I made this one up but I may have heard it somewhere before. There are things like that. Things you aren’t sure if they came from you or if you just heard or saw them somewhere before but forgot when and where. Things like that. I looked again. Time’s almost up. I’m like this with time. I always check to see when it will run out. Wouldn’t it be cool if we could do that with our lives? Check to see when it would end so we could do what we wanted to before then? I think that would be nice. I have a bucket list but I’m not sure I’ll ever do anything that’s on it. It would be nice if I was able to do just one. Only one. That would be really nice. Really nice. Timer go off already! I have less than two minutes. Why does time always go slowly when you’re waiting for it. It’s like a woman getting dressed – or so I hear. I can get dressed in two or three minutes if I already know what I’m wearing. Shopping. Yeah that’s it. It’s like a woman who’s shopping. Takes forever. Last few seconds and I’m listening to The Script. I like them. Oh! Time’s up. It was nice talking to you. :) P.S. Is this free writing if it was edited? I proofread it and corrected a few things.