Writing on a Prompt – A futile effort
Welcome to my dream world. A world of ordinary. A world of bizarre. In the case of some dreams, a world of utter nonsense and confusion.
My dreams are not limited to nighttime. They occur wherever and whenever they feel like it.
For example, right now. Do you think I am sitting here writing a piece on nurturing in front of my computer? I am, but I am not sitting in front of my laptop as I do this. I am inside the womb of an expectant mother. Here I am, all curled up with a tube feeding me nourishment, providing blood, and feeding me genetic material to help define what I will look like.
Wait a minute; I just received a genetic trait that will make my nose big. I think I’ll give my mom a good kick to let her know I don’t like that trait and want her to take it back. What’s that? She likes being kicked; she is letting others feel me kick her. Just wait until I get out of here. I bet she won’t be too pleased when I kick her then. That’ll surely nurture her a lot.
As I said, welcome to my dream world. This was probably different from what you expected for a writing piece on nurturing. Some people say that I’m creative. Personally, it’s not me. I think my mind has a mind of its own.
I wish I had a way to nurture my mind to be creative and do what I want it to do instead of having it go off on its own and give me stories that make me seem weird.
What I need is a dream manager. One that I can control and direct to create the stories I want to write and share. I also want one with a better filing system. Those nighttime dreams with great ideas always seem to disappear when I wake up; if you’re going to create all of these fantasies, at least set up a database that can store, sort, and retrieve them.
But that is my dream world, interacting with my real world again. Actually, I am sitting at my computer trying to write a piece about nurturing. Who knew?
