the thought process, the 10 minute drill, a writing game that I can play that only has one rule write whatever comes to mind for  the next 10 minutes.  I can write a play,  I can just right down things that I want to say.  I can write about schools and the process of learning.  I can write about football and the time I learned I had prescience.  I can write but sometimes I can’t really tell what is going to come out of my head until I actually see it on the page.  Of the many things I could write is the amazement I feel at finding out that my fingers know where the keys are.  I write as I think and it flows from finger tap to the screeen in one smooth or almost smooth flow.  I write and I think that what I know is some magic thing, some wonderful thing that I used to wonder at when I was a boy.  I can’t remember when I first learned I could read.  I just remember doing it.  I wonder where those first books came from.  I wonder, because I recall just how difficult school always turned out to be.   School was a place where I learned that I could use my brain to figure out how to get away with just about everything.  I learned to lie at school.  I learned to fake the hell out of my self by never really caring what the school wanted to teach me.  I always went the other way.  I maintained a new surface though.   I played sports really well and that helped.  I, as I said, could read.  I discovered early on that I had no interest in playing the school’s game.  I did what I wanted and never cared very much about the consequence.  That may be why I enjoy reading and watching movies about the asocial in our world.  Dexter, for instance, is perfect for me.


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