Writers can do anything they want to at any time.
It’s one of the perks.
For example:I’m crawling through your legs right now.
I’m halfway through.
Jesus Christ I’m stuck.
Move a bit.
No, I’m ok.
I’m on the move.
I’m through.
I’m stood behind you.
I’m running off.
I’ve gone.
Where the fuck am I?
I’m miles away.
I’m poolside in Rio.
I’m sipping milk and clicking my fingers.
I’m diving in.
I’m already out and dry,
I’m stood behind you again,
I’m back in Rio again.
You see how nimble we can be.
It is fairly impressive to non writers.
We can be persuasive too.
For example:I really did just crawl through your legs.
Genuinely. I did.
I really did.
I did.
I didn’t go to Rio but I did crawl through your legs.
You know I did.

michael crowe wrote this, not me. i only wish i’d written it. i think it kind of neatly sums up how i feel about being a writer. i heart it big time.

his blog is called fig crumbs.

i love you michael crowe. will you marry me? i’m not a crazy stalker-type, i promise. ok maybe i am, just a little bit.

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