Timmy’s periodic brief

There’s that merry-go-round question about why write I inevitably tripped on when it’d cross my path. Seemed like adequate answers or just a slice of an adequate answer rebelled against revelation.

But the walk to the store for a pack of the pleasure westerners have deemed most evil softened the resistance and an adequate answer might’ve exposed a nose. It isn’t that anger is a favored emotion to nurture.

It just seems so much of the world is bent on developing in one direction and it seems it’s always the direction I don’t want to go. Don’t know why. Life would sure be easier if the world would go a direction to a destination appealing to my appetites. Yet there’s nothing I can do when the momentum is large.

All that can be done is try to find a peaceful pocket off the beaten path. But it seems worldly poachers are hellbent on causing the few remaining pockets of peaceful existence to go into extinction.

So what’s a guy to do? Walking along to the store: walking briskly because it’s chilly. Rolling that question around. What’s a guy to do?

Ah! What a guy can do is create a world. And how can a guy create a world? Words. But then what? Well maybe someone out there will stumble on them and be glad they did. Maybe.


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
This entry was posted in the way I feel about it, thoughts, Uncategorized, what I learned today and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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