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I wanted to try something new for my creative writing posts. See, in all the time I’ve put into editing the Dark Masters, I realize that I haven’t had much time to write other things. Some of that is a matter of time allotment. A much more significant part of that is when I write, I’m stuck in a world of fantasy, that I’ve chosen but still… Any creative writing is normally put to that task.

And, once I’ve finished that book series, I’ll be stuck in whatever ever world I chose to occupy next. Not complaining, but there are certain limits I’ve imposed on myself.

To that extent, I’ve decided to change things up. Creative Writing sessions will now, essentially, be impromptu, here. I’ll pick a subject, once a week and go to town on that, for however long I feel like writing. Ideally, these will not have anything to do with whatever it is that I’m writing at the time.

How long since I showered? The grimy, almost greenish water pouring down the drain was probably not a good sign. Probably. On the other hand, maybe that’s just how water looks when it’s mixed with shampoo and soap.

I can’t remember when the last time I showered. Last night, maybe. I don’t remember that kind of stuff, not any more. I can’t. Too many other things floating around. I can only process so much at a time and the rest is noise. So, showering became noise. I only remember to take one when I feel the uneasy sweat generated from layers grease and dirt.

Running my hair hands through my hair reveals the tension. I can feel the painful tug at my scalp of hair knotted together, unwilling to be separated by the water and soaps. Fuck! That hurts. Oils and brittle hair, wonderful.

My hand is littered with strands of fallen hair.

I dip my head back under the pounding water. The water’s getting colder. I turn up the heat.

More hair between my fingers. I run my hands through my hair until no more come out.

Finally… Clean. Until whenever, I guess.

Thoughts: This is why I need to write more. That felt sloppy and awkward. Sure, it’s first draft and those are sometimes forced, but that was Forced… I couldn’t feel tense or flow or… well, anything. All I had was an idea… I’m going to have to get better at that.

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