Sorry… Am I Drivelling?

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The King (you know who) says writing must behold truth.  I can write about the alien that takes laps in my cereal as long as I write with truth.  So if that alien comes from the planet ‘Swearsalot” my alien better have a mouth that rivals prison potties.  Unless of course my alien has a church lady sensitivity–perhaps the very reason he’s in my cereal?


When I think about truth and writing, naturally my brain wanders to this blog.  Am I typing words that are true?

How transparent is honesty anyway?  Can one produce drivel with traces of truth?

drivel |ˈdrivəlnoun

silly nonsense: don’t talk such drivel!verb (drivelsdrivelingdriveledBrit. drivelsdrivellingdrivelledno obj. ] talk nonsense: he was driveling onabout the glory days.archaic let saliva or mucus flow from the mouth or nose; dribble.

Isn’t writing a blog already like gutting your soul to see what dribbles (drivels) out?

Oh the choices!

Chunky wisdom?

Soupy nostalgia?

Cream of bull?

Pureed propaganda?

The truth is I must write.  I’ve been doing it since the six grade.  That dog eared red duo tang filled with middle school wisdom was both cape and shield.

I feel good when I write.  I feel like I’m doing what I was put on the earth to do.  I actually feel sorry for everyone who doesn’t write.  Don’t they (you) know what you’re missing?

So I write.  Today a little drivel.  Tomorrow a best seller.


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