Drifts

I believe u all know who i am.
I say so because what i'm about to isnt
typical me and reflects in no way the
me that we are used to.
I see i have ur attention, and u are
wondering what may've come over ur
everyday poet.
No thanks to my batty friend, Dr
Cokaine (Victor).
Yes, Cokaine. U now have an inkling to
the kind of guy, dont u?
The dude's become a grim taskmaster
of late.
I keep asking myself how i ever got into
this, i mean, was it wrong to let a friend
know of my inclination to bring various
words into focus and create art?
Yes, i know some of my crafts are not
worth a nickel, pure balderdash, but so
what?
I love the beauty and art a few words,
aptly put together, can bring.
It's what i do best, and i love it.
There. Sharing my dreams, that was my
undoing.
Now i'm saddled with this physician
doling out literary lectures and
assignments like i were his pupil, or like
he were addressing the latest batch of
student doctors, stretching my relaxed
thought processes with a gusto i have
come to despise.
Grrr! Dont i just wish i cud smack the
smug look off that grinning
mischievous face.
Alright. Hold a second, look at me..
Have i in any manner, be it word of
mouth or thru my works, indicated that
i am an essay writer, a novelist, or that i
nurse any passion for either?
Then where in Eden got this man his
idea?
He sits before me a minute, next he's
on his feet, proprietarily pacing the
room while bashing my senses with
''writing skills,. .push urself'', and
whatever else he'd tarried the previous
night studying, just to make my day
miserable.
''Write 30pages in 2days about SPACE'',
he goes,
''Not SPACE relatively, but SPACE in
itself, stand-alone.'', he submits, a
suppressed sly grin tweaking the ends
of his merciless mouth.
He knows he's got me, the. ... hmm!
I have a handful of various 'French
letters' i wud eagerly and happily put
together to call the man, u know, but
for goodtaste.
No, not to his face, silly!
What were u thinking?
But, i guess he gets his kicks from
ruffling my feathers and so i will, in my
characteristic good nature, indulge his
fancies.
Folks, as i air my vents this day and as
u've so patiently stayed thru this
chartless epistle, i feel it is ur due that i
make this effort worth ur while, the
works, whole and unedited, as it flows
from my wearied mind, if u wud tarry
awhile with me.
He asked me to do a freestyle write-up !
I told u this guy' s a nutter, didnt i?
What in Luci's hell is 'freewriting'?!
For the love of St. Pete, how do i pick
up pen plus paper to scribble away at
Heaven knows what, all in the name of
freestyling?
I never heard a more preposterous
idea, if there was one!
But despite my misgivings, i wake up
this morning and my first thot, after
thanking The Father, is to get this guy
off my back.
To humour the persevering son- - of - -
a - - - - woman!
Hahahaaa! Held ur breath back there,
no?
I bet u were mentally spinning out a
lecture on 'choice of words' and
'reader sensibilities', eh?
So, where were we?
Yes, i get up this day, bright and sunny
after 2days of morning drizzles,
I grab pen and paper and here i am,
obviously raving about nothing, and
letting off pent-up steam.
Forgive us, if this made little sense to u,
it's the task i was instructed to
undertake by my newly adopted literary
guide, and to his biddings i must.
As conciliation for taking u on this wild-
goose hunt, i'm posting a regular note
to sate ur literary appetite, in no time at
all.
Please stay tuned.
Thank you.