Snakes and Ladders

More Writing

Day 2 of this week, and I have written again. More JP, more tattoo information. Today I discovered that there are all kinds of colours that obsidian comes from. Most folks, like me, probably associate it with black. I'd hoped to have a red obsidian--something rare sounding--but it seems that is not to be. So I brainstormed some names for my particular magical obsidian until I came up with something I liked.

No sentence of the day, and while I came up with some imagery I liked, I'm not sure how I feel about airing it at this time. Read my bits to John though.

For a change of pace, I went to the building library downstairs, just off the residents' lounge, and wrote there. Since I was the only one in there, it did provide some decent peace, and a worker-conducive atmosphere. I think I'll try it again tomorrow.

 

 

Sentence of the day:

He bolted through the conversational thicket, bypassing anything he wasn’t particularly interested in, eschewing social nicities, and scattering non sequiturs like pigeons before him.

"Are you feeling ill?" Elaphe asked solicitously. "Or just nervous?"

"Nervous," I said. "Oh gods. I wanna puke."

"Please don't," said Ignatius. "I'm feeling a little sssensitive myself this morning."

Elaphe sighed. "This is just like the ssspelling bee all over again. Nerves and ssstress. All right, you two, listen to me. Take a deep breath, long and ssslow. Yes, you too, Igs. You won't do Megs any good if you vomit all over her ssscalp. Now exhale, and on the exhalation, I want you to go to your quiet green room in the forest. Visualise your quiet room."

We visualised dutifully, listening to Elaphe's calm voice as she guided us into a deeper meditative state. I focused on my quiet green room in the forest, primarily because it was better than focusing on the idea of Ignatius sicking up.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe. In. Breathe. Out. Absolutely do not think about Ignatius. In. Out. Calm that monkey mind. Just breathe. Bask in the green leaf-filtered sunlight. Pretend you hear the sound of birds and soft branches. Breathe.

After five or so minutes of this, Elaphe asked, “All better?”

“A bit, yeah,” I said, reluctantly abandoning my warm green room for a slightly chilly one more rooted in reality.

“How about you, Ignatius?”

“I don’t think hippie green room ssstuff does shit for me,” said Igs in a muffled voice. “I visualized all right, and then I visualized puking all over the carpet.”

“Carpet? You have carpet in your green room in the forest? That’s so impractical,” I said.

“Ssso is the tiki bar and the backlit waterfall mural,” admitted Igs. “But it’s an imaginary room, why can’t I have shag carpet and a tiki bar?”

“The idea,” said Elaphe sternly, “is to create a sssoothing zen-like environment free from distraction.”

“Fuck that,” said Ignatius. “I want a tiki bar.”

#sentenceoftheday