Sometimes you study those sweet pieces, peeking through holes that you wish to have filled as you wonder if those holes of inconsistency actually attribute to the flavor. So on occasions I snack on words and language incorrectly, like empty calories found in a grab bag of Halloween candy. It can be that sweet to be so wrong.
Once a writing teacher told me that my material was convoluted. Was it because of my misuse of words? It didn't matter. I told her I loved words too much to hold back, thinking maybe she was a lazy reader. I have acknowledged that my writing is often like a cosmic, excited sun climbing over wrung rain clouds. It glares at streets filled with puddles. It beams its damnedest to soak up every single drop, hoping each drop has absorbed a piece of the people walking along these streets. Absorbed, I can then fill my stories with more convoluted lives. As well as lies.
So then I smile and keep writing.
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Your turn. Be totally random. Pick a certain topic and writing some crazy metaphors.