Sit. Think. Write.

Sometimes when I write either a part of the novel or some daring slam poetry, I think of something so obtuse that I lose immediate focus on everything around me. I’m not too sure if this is healthy or not but I think most people experience symptoms of this thinking game in some fashion or another.

The game of focusing has always amazed me because when I was a younger guy, I used to try to focus on everything around me, which was futile at best. I don’t think my brain could comprehend everything at once and with such eccentricity around me, I don’t think anyone could. The only thing I knew is that learning how to truly focus on something was a lot harder than it looked and it wasn’t just simply looking at something for more than 30 seconds.

Like the other day.

I’m sitting in Panera listening to Norah Jones, and staring into a laptop screen which out of nowhere, the laptop’s screen suddenly changes form and I am back home playing in the neighborhood with the guys. I am fighting over “Who’s It?” then having my first sexual experience, then graduating from high school, but just as soon as those memories flashed back, I was back in Panera looking at a blank screen and still listening to Norah Jones.

I know the nature of how we think is almost a “dare to think” mental game we play but then again, is this necessarily a bad thing?

I don’t think so.

In fact, I think blogs and the such were designed around this notion. Sit. Think. Write.

So, I will welcome the gaze because if anything, it gives me a reason to stand out in a crowd and you know how I love to stand out in a crowd. This upcoming week-end might be a little slow for posts since I am off to the woods for playtime, story time, and a little bit of poetry thrown in.

M.C. Davis

Oh, Okay…It’s My Birthday!

Yesterday I turned 31.

yawn.

And I think the best part of that day was that I actually woke up late (around 7am) and the cable guy who came by to fix a problem actually upgraded our service, which saved me $2.

Imagine that. 

It was a strange day but even now I know that being 31 won’t do anything for my ego, libido, strength, or overall understanding of my purpose in life. 31 means 31 and only 31 because if 31 could talk to me, it would say only one thing…

“just wait until you turn  32″

Anyway, Troy has something planned this evening, of which I am completely clueless as to the plans but perhaps once a year being clueless isn’t that bad huh? My mom, whom I haven’t spoken to in a while, called this morning to wish me a Happy Birthday but since we are at odds with ourselves nowadays, I don’t think I’ll be calling her back anytime soon.

drama.

The course of growing older is getting more and more complex each day but then again, I think if we had the option to grower younger, we would still be perplexed as to the nature of growing. So, grow in peace and while you’re nodding your head, thank God that you are even able to do anything…like breathe.

or grow up.

M.C. Davis