I just slammed my head into the wall. Don’t ask me how I did it or tell me that it was dumb because I know those things. Â Don’t ask my children to repeat what I said or to admit that they heard things crashing inside the bedroom because the words were colorful and the crashes were loud. I was alone in the bedroom and the reaction was more pronounced because I was alone.
Good to know that I had the presence of mind to try and be quiet when I hurt reacted but the thing is that my voice carries. I don’t yell very often because I don’t have to. The voice carries with little effort. It is not anywhere close to being as deep as Barry White or James Earl Jones but it is deep enough. When I first wake it is often more of a rumble. But that damn knock in the noggin made me forget and I suppose it is fair to say that I bellowed.
Got a bunch of ideas for Fragments of Fiction that I want to work on. Sometimes the words flow from my fingertips with little to no effort and I am able to draw pictures in your mind. And when it works well they resonate within both your heart and your head. When it works you feel the passion and you feel the fire. When it works well I hear the words in my head and feel they rhyme and the reason. There is an internal beat I follow that I try to translate from here to there and hope that you get it.
But ultimately it doesn’t matter if you do because I write anyway and any how. I am compelled and driven to mark these things with my keyboard. Moments in time and passages of the present. I still need to come up with a more effective way to present my best material and if my head weren’t pounding I might focus on it now- damn, that is a nice knot that I created.
Got to grab some Motrin. In the interim here is what is playing on iTunes now: