One.

My heart is broken for our world.  We have to see that it's about more than who's right and who's wrong.  It's about who's loved and who needs to be.  There's so many cries for help across the globe--all races, all religions, all ages, all cultures.  We are too disconnected, too many separations.  It's only one planet after all.  We all came from the same earth.  So why do we fight and kill for superiority?  Can't we see that we're killing our own?

In the end, we're all the same
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
All identities will rust
Graves will fall unnamed

In the end, you cannot tell
After all, we'll each bleed red,
Share Earth, a common bed
And show our bones as well

But in the end, we should be proud
Did we unite, did we stand?
Have we loved across all lands,
Or did we fade into the crowd?

In the end, when we look back
Did we live only by a ballot?
Will we see a color potrait,
Or is it all just gray and black?

Before the end, please hear my plea:
"We were made for more than this;
Push aside all differences
And be one humanity"

Another Appetizer

I've spent my whole day studying for this test (grr).  I'm seriously about to gouge my eyes out with a wooden spoon.  Ok, not really.  But it's frustrating.  So, what do I do when I'm frustrated?  You all know the answer to this already--I write things.  Lots of things.  Today, I bring you another appetizer.  Comment or message me if you want to vote for your favorite or just read more from one of them. 

Appetizer #3-

The sky was on fire.  Huge oranges and expansive reds sliced through the billowing clouds.  And there, in the center of it all, was the source--a molten globe of flaming yellow just totally filling the surrounding space.  I was truly breathless.  I know people always mush and gush about sunsets, but man, this was not a sunset.  This was an explosion.  Someone (I've forgotten exactly who over the years) used to tell me that the sky turned red and orange because it was absorbing all the hate and anger in the world and burning it up.  When the sky went black, it meant the fire had no more bad stuff to destroy and you could sleep peacefully, not having to worry about that hatred and anger attacking your dreams.  I wish I still believed that.

For Starters

For those of you who don't know, I am starting a novel! (eek!) Here are a few starting paragraphs to ponder.  Message me or comment if you like them or have more ideas.  I'll probably be posting a few more like them as I am struck by creativity.

Appetizer #1

The words will come.  The words always came.  He stood there for the longest time, waiting for the words to come.  They hadn't yet.  The blank page laughing at him from underneath his poised pencil was too much to bear.  But, he had to do this.  He had to apologize, set things right once and for all.  The way he'd left things two years ago had haunted him ever since he'd left.  These "hauntings" were growing more frequent now, and that's why he knew this had to be done today.  He had to make the words come, because if he didn't, he'd be facing another sleepless night of tossing and turning and playing out in his head all the "what if's" and "had I only's".  He was determined.  So, he pressed his pencil onto the snowy white, pristine page and wrote the first words that came to his mind...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Appetizer #2

"Run!"  A voice from behind her shouted.  She turned her head just in time to see her friend finish forming the word.  Branches and leaves grabbed her as she tore through the darkening forest.  How much longer until the trees emptied onto the road?  Were they lost?  It didn't seem to take this long to get into the woods. "I knew we shouldn't have come here,"  she thought, pressing onward.  They had come on a dare, though.  And she was never one to turn down a good dare.  Suddenly, she stopped short.  There was a light in the distance...two lights...headlights.  "Look!"  She shouted behind her.  "We made it to..." She didn't need to finish the sentence--her friend was gone.

Rewriting The Dictionary

I have words.  Many, many words that are tumbling around in my brain so fast that they keep stopping up the passage that sends them to my fingers, then onto the page.  Words and words and words and no sentences.  I feel like a dictionary.  All my words have meaning but they don't form any kind of order at first glance.  I have to put them together before the people who might read those words will think they apply to them.  I just have to take my dictionary and rearrange it.  That's all.

By the way, that essay at which I was so angry last post actually turned out to be one of the best I've ever written (nevermind that I never got the chance to actually submit it).  Don't let me forget that technique.