Fun With Some Quick Fiction

Everyone has a dream . .  .
The way I see it
there is only one thing between us and our dreams.
That is the beast within.
And everyone has a beast within them

Everyone has that inner monologue
That inner demon
That’s the beast I was telling you about

My beast speaks too
He whispers . .
But I know it’s him,
which is why he changes his dialect.
I swear this is to trick me,
My beast changes the way he speaks,
always disguising himself,
always trying to make me guess myself,
and always looking to maintain my attention
so I won’t look anyplace else.

And sometimes . . .
Sometimes I listen to the crazy laugh of my inner animal.
Every wonder why the devil never dresses himself in anything fancy?

It’s so you never see him coming . . .

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Botox Progress

Day 3—

Today is the third day after my Botox treatment. I can feel the physical differences in my shoulders and at the base of my neck. I have a better range of motion and with much less discomfort.
I can clearly see how Botox injections help with pain management. As far as the mental aspect, I am someone that lives with frequent battles of insomnia.
This is a tough thing because like most of the working world, I have a schedule to keep. This is difficult to keep on a full night’s rest, let alone a night where sleep is this thing made for other people. However, after the injections, I can see an improvement in my sleeping patterns. Although I still wake up in the middle of the night to make a bathroom trip or two, I am able to fall back asleep, which is miraculous for me.

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Keep In Mind

Nothing fills a room like emptiness. There may be a chair, or a hard wooden bench or a place to sleep, like a narrow bed, there is still nothing but you an bricked room.
There is a hard floor and a flat ceiling, walls, and a door with a small window at eye-level with wire mesh that intertwines within the glass.

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Today is Day 1

I sat in a chair, nervous as ever, because of an old subconscious fear about visits to doctor’s offices that resulted with needles and date back to my early childhood memories. The procedure itself is simple. The anticipation, however, was my biggest hurdle. The rest was nothing more than a few pinches of the skin. And here’s why.

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Talking About Gateway Things

Back when I was a little kid, I remember when I had headaches that were bad. Mom used to break up little tablets of baby aspirin and put it with a teaspoon of water. I’m not sure why she delivered the aspirin this way. I suppose I struggled to take the pill itself. Maybe Mom gave me the aspirin this way because it tasted better. I can’t say why she did this.
Unfortunately, Mom is not around to ask but I do remember the teaspoon trick. The medicine was delivered delicately and with love. This was good for me. Also, the aspirin would do its trick. And I understood the exchange; therefore mentally, I knew something was going to help me. I knew that if I felt uncomfortable, I could take an aspirin, wait about 20 minutes, and then I would feel better.

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The Identity Thing

I think of that chicken or the egg theory and which one came first. Was it the chicken or was it the egg?
In all honestly, I never really think of the chicken or the egg. At least, not exactly. More to the point, I think about this when it comes to situations in the mind.
I think about me and my own dilemmas. As far as I know, nobody ever asked to have bad things happen. They just happen. But if in some cases, there is a reason

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The search

There is buried treasure somewhere in a backyard of small home located five houses north of Front Street in a town called East Meadow. I know this because I buried it there, long ago, at a time when youth was made for the young. I’m sure I drew a treasure map, just in case I forgot where I buried these things.

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Just to write

I think hard and then I laugh when you tell me how you see me. I laugh because of your inaccuracies and I think hard because I wonder about the way I see myself, which is different from the way you or other people see me.
I suppose this is the way life is. (. . . Isn’t it?)
We are three people. We are who we think we are, who say we are, and then we are who people see us as.

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