The Process Of Thoughts Getting To The Page All In One Piece

It's been a while since I've posted anything here, not that I haven't been writing or at least thinking a lot about writing. It's pretty much a daily occurrence that I think about a story in some aspect, whether it be this "secret project" or outlined short stories that have the possibility of being turned into a full blown screenplay if I did it right (anyone know any feature film producers?) or talking out children's book ideas with Bekah (I really think we have some best selling ideas between the two of us). But sometimes I feel like I think so much in screenplay, novel, short story, poem, kids' book, song-form that it starts to get all jumbled up, and I can't really write anything down without it becoming kind of convoluted with other ideas and then I'm off in some children's imaginary land when I should be thinking about ways to kill a zombie, weapons, cars, escape routes, etc. etc.

I'm the kind of writer that writes in bursts though, sometimes over days and days. I don't like forcing myself to write everyday. It gets a bit stale sometimes to me if I do that, but then again if my job was to write and writing for six or eight hours a day and really getting a lot of my (our) ideas down and spelled out a bit more would be quite better than trying to write on top of a job that seems to hinder my creativity. I can't explain that unless you actually worked there, but let a lady comparing a local "prophetess" to Moses be an example of what causes my brain to hurt a lot while I'm there.

Anyways, the power of story has never seemed so great in my life from my girlfriend's amazing stories that inspire me to let my brain go and get as creative with my imagination as I can to the Bible to my friends to my family to my pastor to music, movies, and books, it's just a never ending supply of inspiration and a constant flowing mind.

Now to start focusing it a bit more and getting these stories fleshed out and going somewhere (and maybe some people or "a lot" of people would like to read, watch or listen to them)...

Jet Cars

Lightning light up the sky
She's gone so I gotta fly

Get her back to Colorado
for your illuminant show

Jet cars need to be invented already...

The Ballad of the Burracodilla Bowl

Barack Obame loves burracodilla bowls. What's that you say? You don't know what that is? Well, go ahead and tell 'em, Prez.
"It's a burrito, taco, and quesadilla all mixed up in a bowl. It's a time saver and the change America needs."

How do you pronounce it you ask? Go ahead and tell 'em, Barack O.
"Why it's pronounced 'buh-rock-oh-dee-ah' of course."

Of course it is, Mr President. So there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America's favorite meal!

Good night to all and to all a good burracodilla time!

Silver Pistol, Lioness Arms

The meds are wearing off, Doc
And now I'm soaring off this cliff

A lioness caught me in her claws and held me close
Gently she holds me
I'm a goner if I throw in the towel

Sinews and tendons are strong enough for this
My muscles were built from dust for this

The Chariot And The Lion

I thought I'd post the poem I took my blog name from so here goes:

So this is what it feels like to be dragged behind Your chariots
‘Cause you know I love You, and You to me, love as well,
but it seems I’ve changed nothing in this world
Could barely change myself
Still chasing skin and certain delicacies

I’m tired so tired of the stupid messes I keep finding myself in
Seems I keep throwing myself behind spooked horses
Running wild with Your blessing
And it feels like people think I’ve got it all together,
but that makes this even harder
I must be a good storyteller ‘cause I’m the only one not getting the message

I’m just a child reaching for adult ideas
Why is it easier to love everyone as a wobbling toddler than a mature adult?
I admit I was wrong I was wrong I was wrong
And now my head keeps trying to make it all better, fix the mistakes
But it’s time I let you intervene ‘cause I just fall back down into the dragging ropes

Please whistle to the clouds and soar on down
‘Cause I can’t take this anymore
I’m throwing away pride in the hopes of rescue

Those horses are slowing and the earth becomes visible again
All this time, I thought... it wasn’t You driving at all
My name stamped all over the reins
Oh Hallelujah, You’re the one who’s stopped this riot of a ride

You stand as a lion graceful and grand simultaneously raw and roaring
Proving the lies weren’t accurate all along
My worth in Your breath

And now You’ve given me these roads and I have to do my part
Making it through the struggle makes the man,
But the struggle is not, nor ever was the man
Deceit tries to manipulate thoughts to seem otherwise

Yeah I have to do my part with the life You’ve given
The gift we’ve all received

So this is what joy feels like

My Eyes Are Open

This video has no significance to what I wrote. I just thought this song would be a good soundtrack to this so play before you read if you like. Oh it's Explosions In The Sky's "So Long, Lonesome."



I step into the shower. I let it's warm caress hold me gently. My eyes are closed. Keeping them tightly shut to let my other senses take over. The liquid on my eyelids... I wonder if I opened them again, could I be a different person?
What if I open my eyes and my shower was gone, replaced with a magnificent master bathroom waterfall-like shower? What if I stopped the water, dried and clothed myself, and walked out into a master bedroom where a beautiful woman lay sleeping? Would I know her? Would she be my wife?
What if I walked out into the hallway where two other rooms had their doors cracked open, just a hint of light being let in? What if one room had a child, maybe he was around 2 years old, and what if in the other room there was a darling baby girl, no more than a couple of months old? Could these gifts be my children?
What if I crept back to the master bedroom where this woman was sleeping? What if I laid down beside her and closed my eyes?
Where would I... wake up...?

Is The Joke On Me?

I'm really not worried about impressing anyone anymore
'cause courageous hearts know courageous hearts
But I guess there's a reason I'm still single, love
It's this relentless mind, constant treadmill running thought
Even when I sleep it won't stop
Dreaming of all this beauty and death and sunshine and villains

I know what I've got to deal with
Yeah I know what I've got to deal with

So do you think I'd tell you these things so soon if I really was trying to impress you?
Maybe it's self sabotage or maybe I'm waiting for the one who I can hold close
and she'll say, "I believe in you. You're not alone. You can beat the terror.
The light placed in your heart is a gift. Do you feel the same about me?"
And I'll say yes, darling

Am I asking for too much, love?
To a certain extent, probably, but maybe this is all melodrama anyway
And I don't want to sound like I'm complaining, it's just a stress release, darling

And she smiles and I smile and we all smile