Morning Pages, September 2, 2018
The plants draped over the take from the balcony, firing with the cutlery, dangerously close to the extra sauce that arrived unrequested. For another table, perhaps. The hadn’t refilled our waters. The server may have left for another shift at another café, our table taken over by a new man, and he’s forgotten that he now has a table out of section. We’ve been abandoned and the plants are closing in.
Do wethink these parents knew one another or the babies sniffed each other as theypassed and now everybody has to be friends?
My babyis a ten. Yours is less than that. We’re going, charles.
You neversee green cars, especially like green m&m green. This SUV threw me and Ilost my concentration for ten minutes. It was the kind of green they teachchildren in order to know the difference.
And thena man on a scooter passed, being pulled by two large sheepdogs. It was the kindof sight that makes you really question things, like why aren’t more peopleusing their dogs to sled them around town on scooters? Has the mayor beennotified of this practice? We need to have resources for this obvious andamazing new form of transport. Or was this bad? Was he just an asshole formaking his large and furred dogs work on such a warm day for the benefit of hisclever laziness? Should we have this outlawed? Either arrest him or put him incharge of an urban transport committee. Anything in between won’t do.
So yes,people pass by you when you’re drinking expensive coffee. That’s the good part.They pass, you get a brief glimpse into their life, and you fill in the rest.How you fill it in is the cream of this operation. This is how I know I’meither creative or insane: every life I fill in is more interesting than myown.
Just keep writing. This is the part where I’ve run out of ideas but I’ve placed myself in a place with no internet and no way out for a few minutes, so I’ve got to just keep going. I could read but I’m not into what I’m reading right now. I’ll finish it out of obligation but not yet. This is rambling. I’ll delete this later. It doesn’t matter, and I probably won’t even post it on my blog that nobody reads, except that one guy in the Netherlands according to google analytics. How’s it going, Netherlands guy? Anyways, I gave myself until my wife comes back from the grocery store. She let me sit outside with the other men in the food court. This is just how it is. I do feel a little boyfriend benched, but I’ll take it. Sometimes you just take the easy thing because you’re warm and tired. However, it’s best to keep some track of these things so it doesn’t become a pattern. I don’t always want to be boyfriend benched. I want to help. I want to contribute. I want to be there. I want to learn how to write without saying I over and over. Thanks, Pro Writing Aid. You helped me recognize a bad habit. You were worth every penny.