The Great Sponge

March 8, 2007


I am the great sponge. I read throughout the day at work, listen to Audio books in the car and tunes at home. I can’t believe how much I take in. Absolutely disgusting it is. I am in love with creativity but dreadfully afraid to be creative. I’ve kept journals before and started painful short stories. I’m left to wonder: what is the next step?

Being in graduate school I do have some outlet for thought. In the controlled environs of the online classroom my mind is stimulated into outputting information rather than this constant intake. Sick how much reading I do. I’m surprised that I have not finished typing these words and returned to the world someone else has already created.

But I know the creativity is there and wants to express itself. I can feel it. Right now my eyes are a bit tired from reading this computer screen and the blasted small type of The Book Thief. If only it was in large print! If you haven’t noticed that is my favorite character The Reader speaking through me. He/she would like nothing better than to dive right back into that book and pick up where we have left off. Another adventure to be lived and seen through to its conclusion.

We are bird-watching this week–Fruffle is the name of the cockatiel–and while I was typing on the computer this morning he/she moved down off of my shoulder and sat on my hand. An arduous journey that required beak grappling and daredevil claw maneuvering. I daresay this bird has guts. Fruffle stopped on my hand and stared up at me and began making these soft whistling noises. If I was tech savvy enough I would put a link right hereso that you could enjoy these light rumblings. Alas–no such luck. Fruffle was looking for some loving!

And I provided the said loving. With the simple gesture of moving my fingers lightly around his/her neck region I made a small creature close its eyes and suck from the eternal nipple. (In my fondest imaginings) I thought I was the one giving and Fruffle receiving when in actuality I gained from Fruffle. What is important in life? Why am I here? (I know, one of your favorites too) The preciousness of the moment. The simple gesture of reaching out and sharing a touch.

My life. Here, there, and Everywhere.

The picture is from here.


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