BORED WRITER

Writing a blog is fun, but it's also a pain. I don't really feel like spending my time here, but I feel like I have to post something. I do this because I want to read what I wrote. The text has to be short, because I get bored very easily. I can read a book that I can hold in my hands, unlike the unreal one that can be found here. The radiation in my eyes and the sore butt from sitting in front of you are the casualties. I have admiration for you, but I can't express it beautifully enough to inspire anything greater than this moment of truth: The freedom from your tyranny is sweet like the chocolate covered hazelnuts that I am about to trade you for!!! Little by little the small steps grow; the larger character emerges. The accumulation of knowledge fights with the freedom. Today's other facts are: The freed character marches like a dancer, not like a soldier. The funny thing is that I don't like the seriousness, and grace can be found in doing nothing; lemons are on my mind: those yellow ones and those purple ones, simultaneously. I made some tea with honey and one slice of lemon. Years ago, in my children's drawing class at the civic center I asked the children to use a purple pencil to draw the lemons that were arranged on the table in front of them. When the class ended, my children who were participating that day, said to me: "mommy, next time, don't ask the kids to draw purple lemons".