mellowguy
03-21-2009, 07:55 PM
Just a free-writing exercise I wanted to share.
Well how about that. My sister and her friend have come in with a puppy. A puppy with the name of a spice I buy but don't use- she falls most magnificently off of the couch. Lets see, what have I done today? Have I done my work? Gone to work? Eaten my work? I work to eat; I eat to work. I cook. Is cooking work if you eat it? I eat to cook; I cook to eat; I eat what I cook; I don't eat many cookies nowadays.
So what ever happened to the witch on the mountain? As I type this I realize you may not know of the witch that I know. She doesn't eat all of the children that wander up those steep slopes, but she does eat enough to make the kiddies cry. What ever happened to her bowl of soup? It never runs out. I'll make ramen to hide my skill.
The crate next to me holds the puppy; the puppy can't eat marmalade. Sister says "I'm an alien." She is if the tests come back negative. For forty years she's been trying to kill me, but she's only succeeded thirteen times. Those be good statistics for me, should I still be alive. Where are the times I live again as in the old world? I am he that was slain reincarnate to be slain again. And before you get all estranged, I'm not talking about the guy who made that popular religion, I talk about that guy who was stabbed about six-hundred years ago with his own sword by a man who could have just shot him. I am both the man with the gun and the man speared by his own shiny toothpick.
Since when did buses have wings? Why do they fly while the witch could not?
There was a time where the eagles of the north wind passed over the witch of the mountain. The eagles of the north wind are probably better off in an alternate history museum where everyone takes a piece of apple pie and no one shoots at wooden targets. Just take the cake. TAKE THE CAKE.
Well how about that. My sister and her friend have come in with a puppy. A puppy with the name of a spice I buy but don't use- she falls most magnificently off of the couch. Lets see, what have I done today? Have I done my work? Gone to work? Eaten my work? I work to eat; I eat to work. I cook. Is cooking work if you eat it? I eat to cook; I cook to eat; I eat what I cook; I don't eat many cookies nowadays.
So what ever happened to the witch on the mountain? As I type this I realize you may not know of the witch that I know. She doesn't eat all of the children that wander up those steep slopes, but she does eat enough to make the kiddies cry. What ever happened to her bowl of soup? It never runs out. I'll make ramen to hide my skill.
The crate next to me holds the puppy; the puppy can't eat marmalade. Sister says "I'm an alien." She is if the tests come back negative. For forty years she's been trying to kill me, but she's only succeeded thirteen times. Those be good statistics for me, should I still be alive. Where are the times I live again as in the old world? I am he that was slain reincarnate to be slain again. And before you get all estranged, I'm not talking about the guy who made that popular religion, I talk about that guy who was stabbed about six-hundred years ago with his own sword by a man who could have just shot him. I am both the man with the gun and the man speared by his own shiny toothpick.
Since when did buses have wings? Why do they fly while the witch could not?
There was a time where the eagles of the north wind passed over the witch of the mountain. The eagles of the north wind are probably better off in an alternate history museum where everyone takes a piece of apple pie and no one shoots at wooden targets. Just take the cake. TAKE THE CAKE.