If.A Story by Gillian E. Shanks
Inspired by Kara, and her open writing.
If I just put fingers to keyboard, or pen to paper, I wonder what will come out.
Will I talk of saddness or fondness, lost time or lost love?
If I just open my mind and let the words roll out,
Can my fingers really keep up?
I'll think of a line and forget it by the next thought.
I really like pink.
Next thought, love truly is smashing.
It brings a tear to my eye, even as I type, to think of love. To think of what it truly is, and what it means to me and to my lover.
My receiver of love, my giver of love, my one and only love. I think lover is a good way to describe him.
Don't get me wrong, love isn't perfect. Who's love is? If it IS perfect (as in a Musical), is real or just a fool's game?
Can I trust myself to speak freely of love? Perhaps I am worried. That someone will tell me I'm wrong. There is no right or wrong, but people still feel the need to say it.
I read a story of children and how at the age of 9, they lose their innocence. The fear of pressure and what other people say causes them to shut up entirely. Children of the age of 7 will freely draw an imaginary friend and make him communicate with other friends drawn by children of the same age.
-That big fluffy monster (too cuddly to scare), sitting in the corner is petrified by the dark but also frightened when I flick on the bright white light. So instead I use a torch. I introduce him to my other friend or should I say an “imaginary friend of a friend”. This is a robot... with glow in the dark features, and night vision in his veiwing frames. They get a long nicely. Zambo works as a night light, and can check for any “ghoulies” in the dark that might frighten Jinto, and Zambo likes the thought of having someone warm to cuddle into.-
But apparently children of the age of 9 are all too well aware of other peoples harsh responses. One child stands up to tell of his green friend, and another child -all too unaware of common curtesy- shouts “That looks stupid! His eyes are too close together.” At that, no other child in the class can share their wonderful creature, that is, if they've had enough thought to come up with their own that is (some couldn't even work imagination to create their own and drew a Pikachu, or copied the teachers example).
Luckily, for some, imagination comes back. Or else we wouldn't have so many wonderful stories. That are often nothing like this.
So this is what happens, if I just let my fingers roam. Creating the tip, tip, tap of thoughts pouring out. They end in a story that starts far from where I ended. Perhaps I could round it up, by saying “I guess imagination is the key to love. And the lack of bravery needs to be lost for any relationship to develope.” But I think...
...that would be too sensible, wouldn't it?
If I put my thoughts onto paper, what happens is this.
© 2008 Gillian E. Shanks
Added on August 11, 2008
Last Updated on August 11, 2008
Gillian E. Shanks
Scotland, United Kingdom
AboutGillian, 22, Postgrad of Psychology. I've been away for a while, but I'm back now. Things I have realised: My mother really is the best friend I'll ever have. Too much alcohol causes some pe.. more..
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