So 50,000 words is just a hop, skip, and a month away!

I wonder what the weather will be like there...
Clear blue skies, a cloud or two, and nice not-to-cool weather?
I hope so.

It's gonna be a little while 'till we reach there.
So everyone fasten your seatbelts,
plug in your headphones,
and ready those spare pens and snacks!
We're gonna get those words out one way or another this month,
contractions or no.
So three, two one...
​Here we go!

Against all odds, the day is done.

Moments that stretched on for hours,
piled atop each other in towering obelisks,
have finally collapsed with the thunderous crash of midnight.

They have fallen into piles at your feet
ready to be used for the days ahead
to create an unending array of possible outcomes.

What will you make of them tomorrow?

How about we skip it tonight?

There's no need for the sounds of fists banging
on locked metal doors outside
or fists on cracked drywall.

How about we let the night decide the sounds?
Let whatever wind may blow guide our course
amidst the soothing chorus of crickets.
​
Let fears and memories of yesterday
fade into the background
while the marvels of our minds take the lead.

Whenever my fingers start typing or scribbling
I never know what's going to happen

They might drag me down through underground caverns lined with swinging blades
or lead me gently through flowered meadows to the sound of fae in flight

They might decide I'm in for a scare and toss a score of ghouls my way
or drop me neck-deep into a memory that's far beyond my sight

Either way, the urge to type and scribble is always nibbling at my mind
and even when I try to plan
I really never know what's going to happen.

Try to be aware
of the days as they pass you.
​It keeps you grounded.

It's okay to get lost sometimes
in a swirling pit of emotions and thoughts
where up is down
and right now is yesterday

but when you find yourself there
just take a moment to breathe

feel the air flow in and out of you
and you may find
that those unreadable thoughts and feelings
begin to take form

and follow familiar lines and patterns
that will lead you to clear skies again.

Sometimes I look at the world
like I'm a kid again.
And sometimes, that's good.

Like there's unending wonder in the tiniest things
and flower petals sit softly in my hands.

But there's other times
that aren't as bright and happy.

I feel like a child again
confused and confounded by a world that's way too complicated.
Where I want to ask for an explanation for everything
but I'm also lock-jawed and tongue-tied
worried that I'll say the wrong thing
and be laughed at
or shoved to the ground by the big kids on the playground.
Or worse.

It's hard when your present reflects your past
but the mirror's broken
and the glass shows two halves that never should've fit together.

So you have your two selves and their two different voices
telling you to trust and ask
and run and hide.

I guess I'll have to decide which voice I'll listen to today.

Dice clatter and roll.
We're at the mercy of these
merry fiends of fate. 

The more ink that I pour from my hands
the thicker they feel, heavy with
a lack of motion, aching
with tendons all stretched taut,
drained of energy.
My stories take
What's freely
given
​them.

Okay... so I know how this is supposed to go.

I- the hesitant hero- am called on a grand quest,
wherein the fate of the world is at stake.
But I am reluctant to give up my perfectly content life,
so my home is destroyed
or an army approaches,
or something like that.

Blah blah, blahbitty blah!
Can we just skip all this intro stuff?

I'm ready to fight now.
Yeah, where's this great evil?

What- what do you mean I'm not ready yet?
I'm the hero!
That's how this works!

No- don't- all this "training" is pointless-
oh come on!
You're really going to ditch the only hope you have
in the middle of a dark forest,
just so I can prove myself?!
Asshole.