Renewable Resources

Anxiety is defined as an earnest but tense desire, 
But I know better.
Anxiety is momentum.
Both an invisible force that drives you to great things,
And a palpable drive that forces you to invisibility.

Anxiety is thought gravity,
An unrestrained force of nature trapped between two ears.
It puts a supernova's weight onto a singular thought;
All other thoughts roll towards your new obsession
Adding weight,  increasing gravity, maximizing the pull.

Anxiety is a compulsion.
You strain against it to distract and beguile your mind
For a moment of peace in your own skin,
But it eventually culls your creativity and sensibility,
Browbeating once sane thoughts into the mass of fears.

I'm Sorry, Please Forgive Me

I am guilty of totally neglecting this blog as I do all my blogs of the past.  That's just who I am.  But I went REALLY long without neglecting so you have to give me that.  Also, I come back (some of my past blogs have not been so lucky and have been very very short lived).
Some of the reasons the blog got abandoned:

• I'm happy.
• I'm on meds again that I had abandoned for stupid reasons.  I feel much better on them.
• I'm in school and taking 5 classes (a heavy course load) which leaves less time for writing and editing.  I even enjoy the majority of my classes so it's not like I'm looking desperately to procrastinate (in class or at home with homework).
• Tumblr ate my life.

I figure, I should turn this into either a dream diary (which can be painfully boring to other people) or a writing exercise blog so at least I can get something out of it, if not my readers at the very least.  So I'm going with the latter.  I hope someone enjoys watching the creative process (it's an ugly dirty job).  First drafts always look like Quasimodo to me.  Enjoy my Quasimodo exercises!

Today is day one of exercises.  Let us see how long this lasts.  We can place bets to make this fun.  

*I'm googling for writing exercises and I will post a link to where ever I got the exercise.  If I make it up, I'll let you all know.*

Exercise 1

Prompt: Open your refrigerator (for real or in your mind) and look for an item you've never written about in there. Write a poem or a paragraph about one item in your fridge!

Practice: (10 minutes)

There are those delicious USDA organic red grapes.  They're grown here in 'Murika as I like to say, and are exclusively sold at Trader Joe's according to the sticker on the flimsy plastic crate they come in. However, the crate and its sticker are of no importance.  In fact, I don't glance twice at it when I pop open the crate to get at the juicy succulence inside.  It's those sweet berries that I want.  I didn't bother washing them the first time.  I didn't worry too much since they're certified organic.  I changed my mind about not washing them after a few berries though.  They're a bit gritty unwashed.  Although they look so pretty with their feral yeasts matting their skins.  I figure it's probiotic right?  And if microorganisms can live on it, it certainly won't be poisoning me.  But the best part about these grapes (like the crate) is what's inside, beneath the skin.  Sweet, juicy red grapes.  They're crunchy-crisp and squirt when you bite into them.  Every night, they're my midnight snack with some sliced Stilton.