justwrite 8 august

fuzzing out i am fielding doubts of the most obvious kind from my most predictable mind and i find that when the talk is flagging i turn to dragons and their fiery thoughts conveyed by wayout spouts of flames exchanging names with the most revered heroes imagining the zeroes who are iced in movies too groovy for their own motorcycle sidekicks the kickstands can't stand the landing all the grandiose pretendings i am sending good verbs and vibes besides it is too far out for me to seek and deliver and destroy another afternoon like that i am back in the skedaddle mode i will explode with impatience if the latent prints found on my rounded spoon handle are too hot to trot across the microscopic plot i have been trying to follow since page three when the character i liked turned out to be dead which explained several unexplainable remarks he had made in the first two pages though several stages later i found myself distantly in the audience and the interest i once professed had become much less and i could not wish him alive again for then he would have to suffer through the immature dialogue and when we just shrug our shoulders and turn to the cheese and crackers we imagine what really matters and we eat it