I dream. #poetry #haiku

I found the answer –
The cure for my loneliness…
I just close my eyes.


©2017 what sandra thinks

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fiction friday 67: back to you. part 13. #fiction

fiction friday.


back to you. part 13. [previous: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12]

Note: After I posted part 12 last week, I made a few minor changes. Part 12 has been updated. Not enough changed to warrant another read unless you are so inclined. Just thought I’d come clean on the edit.

Now part 13…

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song of the day. #35 | special edition.

song of the day | what sandra thinks

I don’t even know what to write in this post. What a huge loss in the world of music.

Chester Bennington | March 20, 1976 – July 20,2017

I hope he has found peace.

swirly
It starts with one
One thing, I don’t know why
It doesn’t even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind I designed this rhyme to explain in due time
(All I know)
Time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away
(It’s so unreal)
Didn’t look out below, watched the time go right out the window
Trying to hold on, didn’t even know
I wasted it all just to watch you go
I kept everything inside
And even though I tried it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when I

I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end, it doesn’t even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesn’t even matter

One thing, I don’t know why
It doesn’t even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind, I designed this rhyme to remind myself how
(I tried so hard)
In spite of the way you were mocking me
Acting like I was part of your property
Remembering all the times you fought with me
I’m surprised it got so [far]
Things aren’t the way they were before
You wouldn’t even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me in the end
I kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a
Memory of a time when I (tried so hard)

I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end, it doesn’t even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesn’t even matter

I put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There’s only one thing you should know
I put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There’s only one thing you should know

I put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There’s only one thing you should know
I put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
For all this
There’s only one thing you should know

I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end, it doesn’t even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesn’t even matter

song of the day

song of the day
Obviously I am not the owner of any rights to this song, video, or lyrics… just everything else… which isn’t much… ©2017 what sandra thinks
Posted in music, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 16 Comments

song of the day. #34

song of the day | what sandra thinks

I always struggle to enjoy the good days. I can’t help wondering about tomorrow. Will it be good, too, or will whatever messes with my head make tomorrow bad? It’s a terrible feeling. But that’s how it is. How I will feel tomorrow is a mystery beyond my control. And sometimes, worrying about it ruins the good days.

Please don’t tell me it is in my control. I’m sure it is for some people. But my brain doesn’t work the way other peoples’ brains work. I can tell myself… convince myself that it will be a good day, but in the end, it’s random. I never know how a day will turn out.

Today was a good day. Tomorrow? Who knows.

What does all of this have to do with the ‘song of the day’?

I have no idea. Probably nothing… I’m just rambling…

I heard this song today. It’s 22 years old. I haven’t heard it for a long time… but I still know all the words. I guess my cluttered brain isn’t ready to let go of some things, no matter how unnecessary they may be.

swirly
She thinks she missed the train to Mars, she’s out back counting stars

She thinks she missed the train to Mars, she’s out back counting stars

She’s not at work, she’s not at school, she’s not in bed, I think I finally broke her
I bring her home everything I want, and nothing that she needs

I thought she’d be there holding daisies, she always waits for me
She thinks she missed the train to Mars, she’s out back counting stars

I found her out back sitting naked looking up and looking dead
A crumpled yellow piece of paper, with seven nines and tens

I thought she’d be there holding daisies, she always waits for me
She thinks she missed the train to Mars, she’s out back counting stars

I thought you’d be there holding daisies, you always wait for me
She thinks she missed the train to Mars, she’s out back counting stars

song of the day

song of the day
Obviously I am not the owner of any rights to this song, video, or lyrics… just everything else… which isn’t much… ©2017 what sandra thinks
Posted in music, writing | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments

sometimes. #poetry

sometimes
in my dreams
your touch
is so real
that when I wake
I cannot accept
that your heart
isn’t there
beating
with mine.


©2017 what sandra thinks

Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , | 15 Comments

dust. #poetry #haiku

words.

My words turn to dust
before I can decipher
what they’re telling me.

©2017 what sandra thinks

Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , , | 24 Comments

fiction friday 66: back to you. part 12. #fiction

fiction friday.


back to you. part 12. [previous: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11]

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and… the plot thins.

writing.

That’s right. It doesn’t thicken.

I write and sometimes, I even write well. But I have a problem with my plots. They’re thin. They’re boring and predictable. They’re just… weak.

I have never made an outline for any story I’ve ever written. I think it would help dramatically (pun intended) but I can’t do it… because I can never come up with enough of a plot.

I’ll explain what I mean. Here is the plot of every story I’ve ever written, pretty much.

Boy meets girl.
Problems and complications.
Happily ever after.

Now, this might be okay provided the ‘problems and complications’ part is compelling… that things happen… things that could destroy lives, break hearts, break legs. And this is where I fail.

I usually come up with a story idea from one or two scenes my brain gave me. And that seems a fine way to start. But from there, I’m not good at creating a whole story… with truly complicated complications. Everything tends to be a little too neat. And I don’t think I’ve ever not ended with happily ever after.

And I know why.

I have a lot of chaos in my head. I’m generally an unsettled mess. Writing is therapeutic and it works for me when I write myself into a world where things aren’t so messy… where things actually go right… where happily ever after is a real thing. But that’s not super fascinating. Except to me. (Yes, I read and reread my own work all the time. And I love to do it. Sometimes I make little edits along the way, but mostly I just read. Is that strange? Egotistical? Sad?)

What does all of this mean? I have the ability to write… maybe even write well… but I don’t have the ability to come up with strong plots.

What does that make me? Half a writer? Part of being a writer has to be having great ideas, right? Having twists and surprises. Dreaming up interesting or emotionally-charged or shocking plots (or some combination thereof). And all of that while still being me… still doing my thing… romance, relationships, and all the emotions that go with them.

I may have a natural ability to perform the literal act of writing, but without a strong plot, I’m like a cake decorator who isn’t a great baker. I can make ‘it‘ look pretty, but without a delicious ‘it’, I’ll never have a complete masterpiece.

If the best I can do is the anti-chaotic writing I tend toward to escape my real life, doesn’t it get boring? Too sweet… too much frosting, not enough cake? I may be content with that, but I don’t think it’s good enough to serve my guests (especially if I ever have paying guests… ha).

But… I’m not even content with that anymore. I want more to the story. I just can’t come up with it. Maybe I’m not cut out for this… being a ‘writer’… a title I still struggle with because when I think ‘writer’, I think of someone who is published or seriously striving to get there… not someone like me who just writes but would only ever get published if someone found my blog and loved me so much that (s)he wanted to publish me on the spot. (Ha! I’m fucking hilarious.)

Aside: Maybe I’m also not cut out for writing because my last paragraph contains an epically long run-on sentence.

The thing is… I want to make an outline. I actually love shit like that! (Nerd.) But I want an outline that’s more than the three lines above. One with more than the few scenes I come up with. One with a great story behind it… with plenty of interesting, compelling twists and surprises. I want to refer back to it and swim effortlessly from one plot point to another. I’ve got the swimming down. But I don’t want to hop from start to finish over one neat little wave. I want to veer off course and maybe run out of breath and strength. I want to ride the bigger waves… even if it’s the harder path… even if I still end up at the same place in the end. And maybe I’d even end up someplace different.

But really… how the fuck do I come up with more plot? It’s either in me or it’s not.

Someone is going to tell me to read. It’s not going to help… not right now. I’ve got a problem with that lately. Every fucking book I pick up bores me to death. And I know they’re good books… it’s not them… it’s me. (Dammit, I used a fucking cliché!) Yep… lately, reading books bores me. What the hell happened to me? I’ve had months where I’ve read nearly a book a day!

Aside: I’ve never fully understood the ‘writers have to read’ thing. I (normally) read anyway… but… if reading helps one write or write better, how, exactly, does that work? You can’t just steal the ideas from the author of the book you’re reading. Maybe it helps when you’ve got your own plot but you can’t find the words? But I’m in the opposite situation. Not enough plot. 

If I just don’t have it in me to come up with stronger plots or enough plot for a really good story, what the fuck do I put in the outline? The one that I know would help me so very much? The few little scenes I dreamt up? They’re not enough.

I’m not going to stop writing… because I need it. But I want more.

*sigh*

I do have a pretty outline template. Too bad it’s empty.


©2017 what sandra thinks

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