Thats right folks (as well as the one cognizant platypus) that read my blog. I did it.
With a sudden glorious, but very subtle stroke of inspiration i named my book
Eating and Dreaming
I like it, i think it captures the overall theme to the story and the plight. If you don’t think so, i have two words for you, “blows raspberry.”
In any case. I also finished chapter 6 this evening. 21 pages. i try to keep around a 20 page chapter length it would seem. Continue reading “Eating and Dreaming”
Others savored food; they enjoyed the act of eating and enjoying what meals meant. I ate because I had to. I found no enjoyment in the taste, I only found obsession with the need to eat. Of course I enjoyed the food, grew accustomed to having variation, but it all came down to the same thing: Eating had become second only to breathing. When you are a captor to something that doesn’t exist, that never materializes, it becomes nigh impossible to overcome. It haunted my every step now.
Was I hungry?
No. I never ate because I was hungry.
Did I actually NEED to eat?
It didn’t matter. I did. Continue reading “The 22nd Grilled Cheese Discussion”
Big had grown to be a word I hated. It used to be that big meant that I was different, that it made me special in that way I was looking for. Then it changed. Then I realized what it was. The word “big” is a defense for people when someone who is overweight inquires about how they look. You aren’t going to sit there, look what could very well be your closest friend in the eye, and tell him, “honestly Herald, you sort of resemble a cross between a baby elephant and the Grinch if he decided to just REALLY let himself go.” Of course you don’t say that. You think, “what is a word that isn’t necessarily untrue, but isn’t exactly what I really think.” You figure honesty is not always the best policy and choose to spare their feelings. Continue reading “Sex and Soda Pop”