Left to Write

 

As if released on my own recognizance.  I am free to choose subject matter, select words and phrases and should I choose, use creative spelling.  Free of the restraints of rules and never again to look over my shoulder to see if the grammar police are following me.

 

I sprinkle commas from a saltshaker.  I cannot be held accountable for where they land.  I can change from topic to topic without ever using my turn signal and even wander off the path, armed with only the built-in flashlight in my phone.

 

My priority is always to have fun, keeping serious to a minimum, while snatching up occasional silly whenever possible.  I do not apologize for anything, as you are free to change channels or even get up and leave.  I only ask that you not leave your candy wrappers behind.

 

My gibberish stems from a lifetime of observations and actual life experience.  I am diversly educated but not seriously affected.  Often misunderstood, and always casually dressed I stand before you and say with all honesty, I have stepped into the same river twice.

 

I chose writing over painting as my ability to transfer mental images onto canvas lacks the needed punctuation that would provide the desired clarity.  Also, I’m not that fond of cleaning paint brushes.  I do, however, find it just as easy to disappear into a great painting as it is to lose myself to deep, peaceful music.

 

I anticipate the transition from this life to be much the same as chewing a ball of aluminum foil.  Initially not that pleasant.  Beyond that, I haven’t a clue.

 

 

 

Zobostic Corwin