Note: I wrote the following years ago, but I felt compelled to post it in light of Sam Davidson's Trust 30 prompt this morning. It's long, but hang in there; I promise it gets better.
so when i'm outside, i'm very inspired to write. when i'm in the library, i'm very inspired to write. when i'm in my car, i'm very inspired to write. when i'm in my room, i have nothing to write about. i like to be out. i like to be in, but i mostly like to be out. i can be out and be alone. i can be in with good company. i can be in and be alone. i can be out with good company. so what is it exactly that makes me inspired to write? seeing suspicious couples kissing in a library study room. hearing strange, spanish songs from the mouths of crazy teens. listening to random bits of conversation. witnessing drunken events and late-night stupors. watching a girl balancing on a curb in heels. being aware of people who clearly know each other clearly avoiding each other...or at least waiting for the exact right moment to acknowledge each other's existence. a good song. an unexpected compliment from an unlikely source. a new friend. a life-enriching conversation. getting lost beyond belief. meeting up with people who evoke feelings of nostalgia. attending family celebrations. staying up much too late. waking up much too early. the golden hour of the setting sun. a romance that has just begun. the leaves of fall upon the ground. a friendship once lost now is found. the rain that dribbles off the rail. countless attempts that only fail. concrete heating up with light. yelps resounding through the night. echo trav'ling down the hall. being up against a wall. trying hard just to be cool. realizing you look a fool. sweatshirts sweaters jackets pants. nothing but a failed romance. mascara wiped off in a storm. hopes ripped up, ideas torn. jeans with holes right on the knees. trying much too hard to please. first true love so far away. keeping others far at bay. pumpkins witches goblins ghosts. you will be the perfect host. innuendo sarcasm. baby sucking mommy's thumb. trick-or-treating, apple bob. eating corn right off the cob. barbecues, tortilla chips. jumping diving doing flips. running slipping falling hard. showing off the perfect scar. trading songs exchanging looks. commenting on favorite books. learning quirks accepting flaws. driving fast and breaking laws. kicking balls over the fence. appreciating the suspense. because the journey's half the fun. we've already half-way won. leaping dancing singing songs. proving right what's proven wrong. drawing pictures belly laughs. kangaroos and big giraffes. toys-r-us and jungle gyms. book of psalms and book of hymns. church on sunday, school the next. sermons leaving one perplexed. pulses quickened heavy breathing. feeling chests as they start heaving. freckles moles and scars alike. walk ride run, pedal a bike. wheels are turning body, mind. intellect is quite a find. even more so, mate for life. but it is possible, said his wife. no more looking, no more tries. no more seeking out the lies. no more sneaking no more peeks. or analyzing week by week. let it go, love will prevail. step one reads, "hey, kid, exhale."