"Creative writers must always train their imagination" said the book. It was one of those nice little paper backs on 'Creative Writing' that kids buy at school book fairs when their dreaming of their futures.
A writer must always question...to me it sounds more like advice given to scientists. Scientists question everything! I bet they even sit on the pot for hours on end, wondering who came up with the brilliant idea of toilet paper and made millions off of it.
Well to be able to write about anything, apparently that was also something I had to do. Now its become a routine in life.
Everyday, I wonder about things. I wonder about spaghetti bologna and who came up with the wonderful idea of mixing meat and tomatoes. I also wonder about the inane things like DOORS and what it would be like to be a door.
Human Beings aare divided into two groups. The materialists, who see doors, animals, pillows and pin cushions as inanimate things with no thoughts or souls of their own. And then there's people who talk to themselves, their dogs and their pillows. AND THEN...there's me. I sit for a few minutes wondering what its like to BE a pillow.
Clorinda...a door in a mate's dorm. She opens and closes everyday with a BANG! Can you imagine, how many advil she'd buy, if she could just get to the drugstore? Boots would be making millions off of the numerous doors who go through the same thing.
I have concluded that being a door is like being a parent whose child stays in the infant stage forever...minus the soiled diapers.
That is the last ttidbit of knowledge that has hit the window of my brain like a snowflake for tonight. * waddles to bed and falls asleep *
Clorinda (I always thought it was ClArinda) is always asking about "the girl who wonders how it is to be a door". Every morning she asks me for headache pills (all that banging, you know...) and I ignore her. As I turn the corner she screams: "You'll see, one day I'll move into your friend's house!"
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