The truth is that some days, I do not want to write. I have things I want to say, but somewhere inside me there's a thing that keeps popping up, like a rake buried in the grass that I step on and it cracks me upside the head distracting me and moving me away from wonder. Perhaps if the grass were mown, I would see the rake, put it away, walk around it. Instead today I have stepped out and gotten writing rake bonked a half dozen times. It's so easy to quit, just flip a bird to the writing and move on with my day. Today I choose to stick with it, to grab another cup of coffee and write without expectation. It's OK if it's word vomit.
A Conversation Between Yours Truly and the Head Bonking Rake
Mary to Rake: 'Sup?
R to M: Same old. Just hangin' here in the grass. Waiting for you to step on me - AGAIN. That never gets old.
M to R: Yeah - sorry about that. Why are you laying around in the grass anyway?
R to M: I'm grounding myself (insert rake laughter)
M to R: ??
R to M: Jesus. It was a joke. Sense of humor much?
M to R: Nope. So really, why aren't you in the garage where you belong?
R to M: Oh bitch you did not just go there.
M to R: Go where? I'm right here.
R to M: Try to put me in my place.
M to R: Does that bother you?
R to M: Yes!
R to M: No!
R to M: IDK
M to R: I feel like that too sometimes.
M to R: Is there anything I can do?
R to M: IDK
M to R: I really do care about you. And I need you not to just sit around getting rusty.
M to R: And I'm kinda tired of all this bonking.
R to M: Then come out and get me and put me away. Or better yet, use me.
M to R: OK
R to M: And mow the grass while you're at it.
M to R: Couldn't I just get a goat?
R to M: What-EV
M to R: Yeah......ILY2.
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