The earth,
the sky,
the sea,
those waves crashing endlessly onto the beach.
the sand,
the salty air,
the liquid that I gurgle to ease a sore throat.
I must write--
never ceasing--
I must fulfill that
which I have set out to complete.
When will it end?
Train of thought.
Would anyone care?
Would they find this interesting?
It is some type of release for me.
How many thousand words,
must I write?
Pick a subject,
roll with it.
I will choose
where to end it.
Where?
Here?
Yes, that's it.
Enough for now.
But finished?
Who knows.
NaNoWriMo.
I wish to compete
to complete.
When will I gather sucha gumption?
Is that evena word?
How do I know.
Wordpad has no dictionary
no thesaurus
no spell checher.
see? Look at that last word.
I need no punctuation.
or do I?
I wish to be correct
but what if that never happens?
I just type aimlessly.
My fingers are cold.
I pop their joints
and listen to All American Rejects
--no, now it's Aretha Franklin.
Skip.
Fall Out Boy.
Dinner time.
Burgers.
But I wanted a Chicken Basket from DQ.
Dad lied.
I pretend it doesn't bother me, but my mouth was set.
well, better go before mom shouts a second time.
Pause iTunes,
save this,
maybe I'll work on it later.
However, that is most unlikely.

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