Category: Journal

September 2nd, 2022

Journal Writing

September 2nd, 2022

The Wrong Foot

By

You should never start off on the wrong foot, you should only start off on a couple of wrong inches at most. Furthermore, why do we call it a foot when the majority of people’s feet are under a foot in length? It is kind of misleading unless, of course, you wear a size fourteen shoe. Oh well, I guess if the shoe fits, right? I know, I know. I promise this won’t turn into some kind of running gag. I can’t promise, however, that this won’t turn into a walking joke though. I like to keep souvenirs and gifts from girlfriends in a shoebox. I’m sentimental like that. Not that I’m sure there’s really any other way to be sentimental. Anyway, I keep these mementos and such from a girlfriend in the shoebox, even though a lot of times, said girlfriend will end up walking all over me. See? I said I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t make a walking joke. One time, after one of these particularly pedestrian girlfriends had paraded all over me, I decided to set fire to the shoebox. Now that’s what I would call not only starting off but ending off on the wrong foot too.

August 11th, 2022

Journal Writing

August 11th, 2022

Dirty Laundry

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You should be careful airing out another person’s dirty laundry if you haven’t learned how to wash your own. It is one of the quickest ways to get hung out to dry or worse losing one of a pair of matching socks. That seems to be one of life’s great mysteries. Is it under the washer? Did you drop it on the way to the laundry room? Or could it be that somebody is secretly stealing them to show others their holes and all and how sullied they might be? Truth be told, feet can smell pretty funky, so maybe it’s a good thing if they are getting aired out. But if you are worried about it or to be on the safe side, might I suggest you wear sandals? May I even dare say a pair of crocs, but someone has disclosed to me, in confidence, that those have gone out of fashion or should only be worn while boating. What does any of this have to do with laundry? I don’t know, but I do know that if I ever find myself out on a boat, sporting a pair of crocs, and they are hoisting the sails—the last thing I would hope to see up there is one of my bedsheets.

July 7th, 2022

Journal Writing

July 7th, 2022

A Grandmother Clock

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In a festive room is a grandmother clock, which no longer ticks. Sadly, her mechanisms couldn’t be fixed anymore. We had such good times with her, never thinking about how one day they could end. We wanted to believe they were everlasting. It was easy to disillusion ourselves since her hands tirelessly revolved around a continuous circle. This circle was so much more than just etched numbers, but memories minted by family and friends that will no longer be touched by this loving woman’s hands. Although her ticker may have stopped, we can still carry pieces of her in our own timepieces. They can be put back together again someday when we meet our clockmaker, who goes by Father Time.

November 29th, 2020

Journal Writing

November 29th, 2020

By

Often, I wish I could tap into a vein of writing gems, where every word would be polished and sparkle like a diamond. Sometimes, all I find is zirconia or worse: coal. I try not to let this discourage me because even coal can be useful if turned into a heat source or fuel. I feel as long as I can keep even the smallest spark of creativity from flickering out, or I can make it to the next stop down the line, I’ll find more gems of wisdom to keep it going. The more I have, the more rich and rewarding my writing will become. I try to let this thought be my guide. Even when there is just coal in the mine or my canary of cognizance has died.

November 24th, 2020

Journal Writing

November 24th, 2020

By

There is no rest for the wicked, so if I can, I try to hit the snooze at least a couple times every morning. Although I don’t exactly resemble a sleeping angel, trust me when I say you really don’t want to see my lack-of-sleep demon, either. This devil fiends for coffee, and so help me if he doesn’t get it! I mean, if you’re quite fond of having a head, you better hope there’s cream and sugar in it too. Lest you want to see eyes turn as black as said coffee. All kidding aside, does anyone know of a good exorcist?

November 23rd, 2020

Journal Writing

November 23rd, 2020

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I was born to write but unfortunately, the written word seems to be dying. Every year, more and more print is being killed off in favor of the digital. Letters have been discarded largely in favor of the quick e-mail, or worse yet: The even quicker text message. Even text itself is swiftly being replaced by image and video. According to a 2018 Pew Research Center study, nearly a quarter of adult Americans reported they hadn’t read a book in the previous year. So, if this figure shows promise for continuous annual growth, I may need to start eating my words in order to survive doing what I believe I was born to do.

April 2nd, 2020

Journal Writing

April 2nd, 2020

Brainstorm

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Sometimes my mind is cloudy even when skies are clear. It’s on these kinds of days, even my name is mud and I question whether the grass is green at all on the other side. It also makes me wonder if my muse only cares to visit when all is gloom and doom, only allowing inspiration to strike me like lighting in a brainstorm. The words seem then to come out of me about 100 mph like a tongue twister.

March 25th, 2020

Journal Writing

March 25th, 2020

Limited Time Only

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After a long day, when you are winding down, the day seems shorter as the clock winds away. Each tick of the second hand draws ever nearer to the stroke of midnight when all is black and still. It is at this hour, I neither wish to be asleep or awake for fear of what I shall miss. Tomorrow is but a modest promise that one today will break. We know that time is of the essence but what exactly is the essence of time? Is it to serve only as a reminder of how limited we are by it when time itself seems limitless? What would be the purpose of that but to create a culture of incredible impatience? An impatience that leads to rash decisions, rashes can result in sores that leave you looking not unlike Job, and crying out to God asking why, to which God will just look at his pocket watch and sigh.

March 17th, 2020

Journal Writing

March 17th, 2020

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Is the ‘trick’ in St. Patrick’s Day why so many of us choose to celebrate this holiday by drinking until we’re a bit green in the face. I mean, how many can truly say they’ve seen the end of a rainbow, and if they have, can they also say they found a pot of gold waiting for them there? And don’t even get me started about four leaf clovers, the odds of finding one are about one in 10,000. You are just as likely to be injured by a toilet — that’s something to keep in mind when you’ve had that one glass too many of Jameson today. Finally, I’m not so sure saying, ‘kiss me I’m Irish’ works even if you are Irish, but you’re more than welcome to kiss the Blarney Stone, I’m sure.

March 16th, 2020

Journal Writing

March 16th, 2020

By

With all that’s been happening in the world, I sit back and think to myself: How nice would it be to just live in la-la land? Where pixies and nymphs do sprightly jigs while singing catchy little tunes in the sunny, yet cool afternoon. In the entrance of a nearby cave, a troll takes a load off on an overgrown toadstool as he flicks through the pages of a book by Tolstoy. His nose softly whistling notes like a piccolo. Down by the bay, mermaids bathe and wade. Their splashes and laughter, just as musical as the crescendo of waves. Yeah, la-la land sounds pretty good right about now.