Note:  This is merely a writing exercise designed to work on my writing chops.  It was written without stopping over a period of ten minutes.  Please forgive any incoherence or rambling.  I present this unedited.  Welcome to my mind.

Free-writing (First Exercise)

It is nice to be free of the world of lies and expectations.  We have so much pressure put upon us, as if we are a giant button being steadily pushed down.  What happens when the button is pushed?  Maybe it is different for each of us or maybe a uniform madness descends on us.  That would certainly be epic.  There is an uncertainty inherent to the human condition.  It can only be described as ridiculously macabre.  Or maybe it is just sickeningly sweet.  Maybe we are just sick of it, of all of it.  Bull shit piled nine miles high.  The only thing to do is to laugh, die or cry out for meaning amidst the cosmos.  Purpose where there seems only pain.  Like in my hand right now.  I am cultivating softness instead of burrowing into the page emulating the pressure I speak of, in the pressure of my pen.  My hand softens but the pen still flies.  I must seek the peace of reflection rather than the agony of tainted perfection leading to tacit rejection and implicit convection from   lethal injection to the dome of all knowledge, the rock of Gibraltar’s brittle jaw- Shout through the silence and play through the violence.  Blood is death’s antidote.  I fear that I fear that I fear.  Semblance is substance.  Words glitter like gold falling from the sky.  Why?  Why? oh Why?  does the clock still tick; is there more to say?  Should I think of my wife and find the knife that cuts tension?

(Note: please disregard any verbiage that suggests homicidal intent.  My wife and I had an argument and I wanted to defuse the situation. (and knife rhymes with wife)  We discussed things and all is well.)

Well, yeah, I guess all that is rattling around inside my brain somewhere.  No wonder I forget to apply my Rogaine in the evening.