OK, I just deleted the last post, by accident. I don't really work on command or by sticking a camera in front of me so that I start singing ( YouTube). I like to mean something, which is why I make strange jokes most of the time, so that I don't have to!
I was just thinking about when I was at University and I joined a writer's workshop. We would have a word and then have several minutes to write whatever we wanted to as long as we got the word in ( if my memory does me right). I enjoyed it....
This is going to be completely random ( well not completely because there is always some reason in the universe), anyway....
I've really not got to care that you'll make fun of soft, sensitive me. Yes, I am. And in case you are wondering I'm the grumpy person who comes to the till, when shopping. Anyway...
EXERCISE 1: Random word, sitting on Paul's desk
There was a fight club on the corner. I'd never been in there but I had some pent up aggression that I thought was worth exfoliating on a willing victim. Hmmm... who could I ask? Maybe Patrick he was my golden retriever..hmmm, but I didn't think that they let in dogs. Anyway, so I decided to venture inside the building, a semi detached house, in Houndslow- ou excitement. Ben ( that was his name, he had a name tag- said it all, really). He was smiling too, with a relaxed expression. It was at this point that I wondered if all the people inside were on drugs. Oh yeah!-Fighting that's a drug.
"Hello... I'm just looking around"
" That's cool, have a look...", Ben smiled and walked off. Yes, I thought, I have been left alone to wonder, I don't tend to be left alone in some shops to browse, and then they wonder why they have no customers. Hmm... people like to have a choice. Ok, so people are actually here because they want to be. I may want to be. Let's have a look. Hmm... there's a girl in black leggings, with dark, straight hair and a fit body in the corner kicking a punch bag. Hmmm, not for me then, I'm a bit smaller and less attractive. I don't want that sort of competition. Ben was quite fit, ah yes, probably married. I should have checked.
Curtains are for hiding windows, portals, to the soul. To withold from the audience what the author is really thinking. A story is like this, it cloaks itself, tied away from the constrants of the audience's minds, it finds true expression, in a medium that is not truly in itself well known or accomplished, until the curtain parts the seas, the stage, and the revealing commences. It is still in this sense a disguise and a diversion, a metaphor for thoughts that can only be expressed in the imagination.