The scrap of writing that our brains wanted to create

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Thread: The scrap of writing that our brains wanted to create

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    The scrap of writing that our brains wanted to create

    I don’t know if this happens to you guys, but some days things will happen that I will be learning from as a person and my brain will want to make it into a poem sometimes, which I think is where most poems come from, but sometimes my brain wants to write it in prose and it’s usually something short. Some scrap that would never make it into a full story... but that I do t want to just forget either since a bit of writing would be a monument or a place-marker to what I’m learning and thinking as a person. Feel free to let your creative hair down here. These swatches and scraps don’t need to look pretty.. I think they will be pretty anyway.

    This is an open invitation to participate in this kind of open writing prompt. Use inspiration from what is going on in your life like a writing prompt or let your imagination go nuts thinking about oh let’s see:
    a friendship
    a cave
    a campfire
    a description of meeting someone
    a food you once tried
    a really blissful moment you had doing x
    a stage or a performance
    a nervous or awkward moment
    Anything you want that is tugging at your brain.

    Today’s for me:
    Pam wrapped the belated Christmas gifts and picked up her pen to write them a note in the Christmas card she had just made. “Doug ans Sandy, Thank you so much for all you have done for me this year. You guys make me feel special and you are both so special to me.” Tears were in her eyes now. The truth was that Doug and Sandy reminded her of home where tears were okay. Where people were to be trusted. Where she had been carefully brought up being greatly loved. Pam thought about how different this adult life was from her small tight-knit and loving home town. That happy tears were poorly understood here. That she had lost one job in this town because of happy tears. That people here stuck barbs in each other’s backs and framed people for petty mistakes and than ran to HR to try to blow up the problem passed recognition. Pam thought about how difficult trust and therefore living was in these circumstances. Pam thought about the flowers that had been waiting at her house on her birthday from Doug and Sandy, how it had surprised her that they had done more than her husband had. And how often do you get to feel this special as an adult? That someone really cares about how you are. Like really cares about how you are? Pam thought for a minute why she wasn’t raising her own kids back home, a place that understood what happy tears were. Pam wiped her tears away and went out to greet Doug and Sandy who were waiting for her for their counseling session.
    Last edited by Llyralen; January 8th, 2021 at 06:34 PM.


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