…actually, why not?
Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you do differently?
If you’re a curmudgeon, eating an apple or an orange won’t change the curmudgeon part. Unless it’s magic fruit.
Situations vary, but your response is up to you.
Are you hard-headed, a people pleaser, or even both?
Learn to compromise, set healthy boundaries, and work on how you respond to situations and people.
Everything after that is quantum.
#humpday
What makes you nervous?
*looks around*
Are you serious right now.
#dailysnark
How do you unwind after a demanding day?
Long hot shower. Good food. Some entertainment. Bed.
#r&r
How do you use social media?
Protect your peace: block and bless.
#sunday
What place in the world do you never want to visit? Why?
That is phenomenally suspicious question. Tell me, what exactly do you expect me to say here? No, I’m curious. Hell would be too prosaic, wouldn’t it. Other people, then. Naturally. But people are everywhere, aren’t they. They can be such a bother. Horrible. Though. Well. There is a certain kind of villainy, isn’t there, a kind of evil, that defies all sense and reason. A corruption of the soul, the kind that seeps into everything, and ruins even the simplest of pleasures. Yes. That is the kind of place one wouldn’t want to be in. Would you? Of course not. Who would? Now, that’s an interesting question. Those who revel in villainy. Those who corrupt for corruption’s sake. My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, and every tongue brings in a several tale, and every tale condemns me for a villain. Thrilling to play as an actor. Horrible to exist with as a human being. Quite a silly business, isn’t it. Being human. Unfortunately, we can’t ask the person who started the whole mess. Rather annoying, really.
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Words, images & collages tossed from a window.
Essays, notes & interviews on why literary fiction matters to human living
small press. great publishing.
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Home hub & scribble space of Prose Writer & Poet Kristiane Weeks-Rogers (she/hers), author of poetry collection: 'Self-Anointment with Lemons'.
A journey from one end of the bookshelf to the other
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