Fragments from October 2017

Fragment 1:
It is the fear of death that drives
me to squeeze the ink out of this pen;
otherwise, I would not be here
writing in a crowded coffee shop.
(It is very unusual for a man to die
in a coffee shop.)
I’ve been coming here to write
as often as I can.
The waitress knows my name.

Fragment 2:
The first sentence I ever wrote
(without being told to write)
was a secret and a silent declaration
in blue.
A childish sentence on a piece of paper
composed of three words.
I hid it under the mattress.
I was thirteen or fourteen years old.

Why I wrote “I love N—-”
on that silly piece of paper
with a fountain pen
I must go back in time to find out.

 

 

Memoir – A Creative Writing Assignment

I was cleaning my room when I found this blue notebook in one of my drawers. It’s been there since 2014.

What was I doing in 2014? Mostly reading and drinking. But I also took a creative writing course, which sucked… but, to be fair, I did “learn” a few things… and it was fun.

At one point, I was assigned to write a memoir. However, since I’ve already been keeping one for years, I decided to make this one a little entertaining for the teacher.

Here’s what I wrote:
PDF: Creative Writing – Memoir – 2014

Just thought I’d share it with you guys.

Cheers.