Elation, a feeling of joy,euphoria, gladness, jumping up and down glee. that doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's worth remembering.
This is an exercise in writing down whatever you think of without structure, but I've seen my writing without structure, and I don't care for it much.
I strive for my words, my writing, my life and relationships to have structure, boundaries of sense and nonsense. I find it difficult to write in a flow of words, without thinking, although I often talk that way.
I can babble on for days without thinking of structure and meaning, but it doesn't matter because no one listens when I get that way anyway.
My writing is different. Ever since I've joined this site, sentence structure, dialogue, tenses, tension, and all the madness that go with it has been important.
To throw structure out the window now would negate all the work I've done to find structure.
I could lose myself in words, but that would be like diving into whipped cream. It would be sweet for a few minutes, and fun to wallow in, but eventually my fingers on the keyboard would just get sticky and sickening.
I need to know where I'm going. I don't always remember where I've been, so my present and my future are important to me. I live in the moment, but I plan for the future.
I am a creature of the swinging 'sixties, the generation of free love, civil rights and the madness of millions of young baby boomers gone wild. I am a product of that time.
I lived in a generation where drugs were everywhere, but I never even touched it. I was too smart, too scared, and too poor. I didn't even drink.
I smoked cigarettes for forty years, and finally quit just 16 months ago. One of the things that I am truly truly proud of, because It was a really hard decision. i was completely addicted.
I'm 30 pounds heavier, but I'm healthier, happier, and I smell better. Now if I could just get my husband to quit smoking.
this exercise is about elation or depression. I don't write depression. On the infrequent occasions when I felt it, I gave in to it. I just stayed in bed and felt sorry for myself.
I don't write depressed, because I'm just too tired, too lazy, to apathetic, too unhappy, too unoriginal, sad, and depressed to write depressed.
This exercise only proved one thing to me: I am unable to abandon some form of structure altogether. These are my thoughts. I even used spell check. How uptight and restricted am I?