A Little MS with a Little MSW

My college writing professor was a big fan of freewriting. He would set a timer and instruct us to write whatever came to mind. I am not good at it. My mind has a million tabs open on any given day, but as soon as I am told to allow all the thoughts to flow out onto paper, a mental dam appears. Even now, I am trying to carefully construct these sentences and get all fancy with it. Free-flowing thoughts. That sounds like yoga for words. I’ve never been good at yoga, either. Cat-cow, downward dog.. what’s up with all the animal names? Did Old MacDonald practice freewriting? Yoga? Did it all originate on a farm? I need to breathe in, breathe out for a minute. This is too much. It’s thundering. I don’t have anywhere to be for the rest of the afternoon and I am enjoying the clacking of my nails against the keyboard set to the backdrop of an impending storm. Free write. Write free. Freedom writer. Freedom Writers was a great movie. My two-year-old poodle is snoring like a champ. I need a nap too. I wonder what Stephen King’s freewriting looks like. Never mind, no I don’t. I think he’s been freewriting for the masses for decades now. Once that floodgate opened, flow has not been an issue. I’m taking breaks between these sentences so I’m pretty much cheating. I’m typing my thoughts as they come but my thoughts just aren’t flowing seamlessly. Thanks for indulging me in this little exercise. I’ll try again one day soon.