I don’t get stream of consciousness writing style. Sorry Virginia Woolf, I have too much running through my brain to have to comprehend what’s trickling through yours. It’s like I’m tubing down a river and your thoughts are a 10 mile waterfall drop. It’s just not going to work out well for me.
Analyzing tone of a piece of writing. How do you think I feel right now? Am I mad, confused? You can’t tell! Only I can see in my own mind when the waters are clear enough.
Scuba diving!! That shit is cray!! What if you lose oxygen? What if there are sharks or eels or lampreys? You can’t control what the water looks like. You don’t even know what you’re seeing most of the times.
Carbonated water. If you wanted bubbles in your water, just do it yourself with a straw and a puff of air in your cheeks no matter how many times your mom told you not to do so. (This also applies to club soda & ginger ale)
Submarines, because the fear of impending death on land is not enough. The only watery grave I want is when somebody waters the flowers on my tombstone. I prefer above sea level, it’s much easier to see up here.
Algebra has never been my best subject. Have you seen the joke where 2 + 2 = fish? I get that. But x’s and y’s don’t swim around in my head and across paper the same way those 2’s fishes do.
Poems about death. All of the good ones have already been written (except for the one I’m saving for my epitaph on my above sea level grave) Be original! Write poems about the science of flower pollination, or the Neolithic Revolution. You can’t keep recycling the same old cliches over and over: you can only make a pair of jeans into a pencil once.
Whatever’s at the bottom of the ocean, only because it scares me. Only because no one has ever dared to go down there, because we know more of the Moon than the Marianas Trench, because it’s a damn mystery.
No one else knows what is in the crannies of your ocean. No one’s explored it quite yet.