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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Case study #1 -song development part2  (Read 2758 times)
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« on: January 02, 2008, 02:20:45 PM »

Here's the new Object writing/ideas session where I got new keywords

Midnight, a still moon, clouds are moving out of the way, stillness, the sound of people staggering out of the pub , loud yahoos and cat calls, “where are we going now”? Taxis pulling up, cars accelerating over speed humps, the gentle quieting of the street as people turn in for the night.

Late night television owls watching ’til all hours cause they can’t sleep. Insomniacs, braniacs, trying to solve puzzles  because they’re there, hard workers working on late night last- minute essays that need to be handed in NOW, why did they wait so long to make that deadline?
Midnight, is a safe warm bed, a roof over your head the smell of freshly washed sheets, setting the alarm clock for another day ahead, the figures glowing in the dark as you lie awake, running over the movie of the day and all the things that you said and all the things you wanted to say, regrets and pleasures. hurts and encouragements.

Lying there thinking of the new tomorrows, so exited by them that you can’t get to sleep [a thousand anticipations], meditating , imagining, moving into the cloud-land of dreams, eye’s are getting heavy going deeper and deeper to sleep.

Waking in the middle of the night  to stillness, scary stillness, it’s too quiet, a knock on the wall a crack in the ceiling, scary. Is that a ghost, some dead relative trying to contact me?

Midnight where a hush steals over the lullaby  of the suburbs, in the city there’s life, nightclubs, booming bass-lines, alcohol is flowing like a river in some den, underground, men are standing at doors letting in only the privileged. If you don’t look right no way. Gangs are roving around, some with knives, looking for trouble, looking for an excuse, the danger of midnight  is getting  caught on the wrong side of the street. Cars doing burnouts laps, everybody’s looking good, looking fine, everybody’s doing their time. Waiting  for it to all come on line

Midnight, where possums fly across telegraph wires between houses and jump and laugh making us scared. Midnight, where telephone crises happen, where lovers meet without protection, where the nakedness is all there is, a thousand bedrooms where people are ignore each other, they’ve stopped talking, stopped communicating.

Midnight as another trucker takes another pill that’ll get him to the next town, with eyes open and alert still. Midnight in a hundred police cells, where late night drunks are sleeping off their excess.

There’s a lot going on at midnight

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