The World Within My Mind

It's probably a little risky, letting you all have a glimpse into my mind.  This is from my daily writing exercise.  1,015 words.

Time to write. I’m a little late today. So many things going around in my head. So many unconquered stories. So many new ideas. Almost everything I see is a writing prompt. I feel that my mind is just like a large bottle of wine which has not been opened yet. There is so much to discover inside. So many roads to travel down. So many boxes to unpack. The more I look at the unopened the more I see inside it. The absolute possibilities. The treasures awaiting discovery. I’ve begun to close my eyes when I type like this because it is just like peering into something and I can’t see it clearly with all the distractions around me so I close my eyes. The details begin to appear and stand out better one from another. I don’t have to think about the white screen and the black type against it. I can look into the shadows and see shapes appearing and details emerging. I haven’t opened that bottle yet. I hope I do soon because I’m getting thirsty for a good taste of wine. Oh, it isn’t actually wine but it is wonderful. It is going to be so delightful. A world of discovery. I turned the lights down so that the bright lights don’t intrude so much as I look into my mind. Some day when I unleash it it is going to amaze me. I see sign posts pointing. This way and that. There is an old house standing on a hill. It may have been a writing prompt I latched onto about twenty years ago that I had forgotten about. It intrigues me. I turned off all the lights now so that I can see better. I have only the light of the computer screen and my eyes closed. There is a family of rocks. They came in with a meteor shower and somehow I heard about them that they are here. But I don’t remember seeing them I only read an account that I wrote down about them. I’m longing to find them and learn more about them and the planet they broke away from and the galaxy they once knew. There is a child in Germany who was left behind with Nuns when her family came to America before the second world war because she had tuberculosis. There are others too much more obscure that I can’t see clearly at all because I haven’t opened the door yet. I’m still looking through the window. It’s not like a room or building that I’m looking into. It’s like I’m in the room and my mind is on the outside and I’m looking through a dirty window at the world outside. I’m wondering what it all means and where it all ends up and will I ever get to discover any of it. Will I have the courage to open that door and begin that journey to all the lands? I sit here at my keyboard and I learn to type. I do know how to type, physically type. I type fairly quickly. Well, not as quickly as a lot of other people. But as quickly as I can speak. If I speak slowly, like to someone who is very hard of hearing. But much too quickly for my typewriter which is from a long time ago. The keys on it kept jamming because my fingers were going too quickly for it. Yes, I can type. But I’m learning to type from my heart. From the place where stories live, without it going through some sort of censor. I’m learning to let my fingers do the talking and I’m reading it at the same time as you. I’m not sure what the next sentence will be. It surprises me everyday. I’m on a road to discovery. I’m learning new things with every line. I didn’t know I felt that way. I didn’t know it looked like that. I couldn’t have guessed it would end up over there. I just have to let my fingers guide me and trust them as guides. It’s almost like I’m saying they are my feet. Like I’m walking on my fingers or something. But really I am. My feet have nothing to do with this. Except they do become useful when I need another cup of coffee. Then my feet are useful. And yes I will need the rest of my faculties at times. To do research of course. I have to do research sometimes. That’s just part of the discovery. I’m going to have to let a character show me what it is like somewhere else or take me to lands I’ve never been. I forgot about Patrick. He is in the box of ideas left unfinished. The stories begun and put away. I must have stepped through that door once upon a time. Maybe I was just looking through this window then too. There are others out there who I felt a familiarity with. Who’s stories I desperately wanted to record. So that they wouldn’t be lost forever. I love that they are all still there, waiting. Waiting for me to train my fingers to tell the story. Waiting for me to unlock that door. Uncork the bottle. Maybe they all fit together somehow. Maybe there lives twist around each other and connect. Maybe not. Time will tell. Time will show what is out there beyond that door. It isn’t dark out there really. It’s just the window isn’t letting me see clearly. Maybe it’s one of those old fashioned kind of windows that make the glass look wet. I had some of those in the house I live in now. We don’t have them anymore. I would have kept them but they let too much of the outside in. And I think they were missing the purpose of being there because you couldn’t really see very well through them anyway. So they were all replaced. I can’t wait now to go through the door and start discovering the world within my mind.

Elizabeth Williams 1,000 words a day.