Viral thoughts.
In response to a prompt from a man who means no harms (?) out of the blue a writing experiment penetrated my writer’s mind.
On good days what flows through my veins is ink but when it flows out what is Roar Shack of intention’s pretention? Highest of my view counts hands down is I Always Use Black Ink, good but not greatest; was fate determined by algorithm’s predilection for a key word on platform ruled by writers of sturm und drang a rang a ring around daisies? About writing, you see. Not curated but still, a distillation of sorts? That’s another story. Hmm.
What spurts out my ap-pen-dage are many shape-thinks; love, pain, joy, sex, hatred, Spring, Winter, atrocities, beauty, loneliness, holy union, abuse, incest, recovery from same, humor, satire, growth, regression, space, Earth, gods, mortals, paradox, pair of therapists, aging, birthing, living, dying, living death, dying life, on and on and on and also of course doing the write thing, even a novel novel. Too many niches or not enough? What if I focused on what I do when not counseling; what if I was a dubious expert on producing words that people want to read? Better writers than I have succeeded in this vain.
These days poetry rules maybe not the platform but my heart/mind/spirit.
Many pros use prose. I Always Use Black Ink is sort of about writing. Significant key word not poetry but something left of write?
Curiosity imbues my ink as oxygen does hemoglobin… yet something I stink about is troubling…
Something smells stale; is it me, desire for readers leaning in the write or wrong direction? Resist salting either ore with key words that distort direction of the question.
Do human editors over-write or upend decisions mad by algorithms? I mean you, man, you man being.
Is this some kind of a circle jerk? Not that I’d necessarily mind. Just askin’.
~ Wry Welwood
26th of November 2021
Written in response to Scrittura’s Wednesday Prompt: What’s in your veins?
attention: J.D. Harms.