I n k
It's easier- writing and not seeing the words- writing in a type of invisible ink. I just said that to sound fancy- I'm really typing on Microsoft Word with all the settings to white. You can't go back and erase your mistakes- I guess that would be a bit difficult, wouldn't it? You can't see them. In hindsight, you say more, you do more, you forget where you were and you trail off and you stumble and fall trying to make everything better. And that little black dot of life just crawls across the page, moving down and down and down and before you know it, you've written pages and pages but most of it's a blur, and you only know the basics of what you've done.
Life is a lot like that.
Using the back button is risky too, because you might just chop of a word, or join two words that were never meant to touch, you might look back and see a mess, or a singular red line on the page. Or two. I think that was two. Now I see a green line. Another red. And another.
And things start to get a bit sketchy when it's all white, and you start a new paragraph, a new chapter.
I'm typing blind most days. Recently. Otherwise it's too easy to go back and fix and change and fix and change and it never really ends.
I think that's why I prefer a notepad and pen. From way back when. From a while ago, I think. Before Donnie started to get all techno smart and Leonardo was chosen to be leader, and Raphael – I did it again. I typed Raph's full name and I wanted to backspace, I wanted to backspace and edit it, edit it to 'Raph'. I think I'll go back over this- fix my typos. There's more red lines now. A lot of them. I used to think I was a good speller- once I'd learn to read and spent hours studying because I wanted Leo and Master Splinter to be proud, wanted to show them I wasn't just a mess up, I suppose.
Didn't really work- but I found the passion, the love of the written word and of every little meaning and creation and author writes. I'm a writer. Just a writer. Not an author. Not published yet, am I? I wonder if I could ever be.
Don't know. I should ask Donnie about it. Maybe not. I spoke to him a while back, when he was sitting in his lab and I was sitting in the lounge. I had my sketch book out, and I was doodling. I don't know… I think it was a picture of us when we were young. What I can remember of us anyway. And then Donatello shouted something that really made me look up. Leo and Raph were out with Master Splinter- there was some kind of training exercise that had to be between just the three of them. I was curious, but Sensei doesn't want to talk about it. I respect him, so respecting his word is just a given, right?
Maybe. Maybe I just suck at being a teenager.
Either way- it was just me and Donatello. Donnie. And he just sort of stopped dead- I didn't hear the clack of his keys anymore. So I said nothing- but the scratching of my pencil had stopped too.
"How long- do you think?"
I knew what Don meant right away- and I guess that on itself was kind of scary. Unnerving.
"We got good defenses, Bro. "
I couldn't bring the jokes to my lips, as they bubbled and frothed in my brain. I wanted to say them, I really did. But I couldn't. Maybe that's because I didn't believe any of them.
"We had last time too."
And I had nothing to say to that because when a guy looses his home- looses everything over and over and over…. I guess you start to stop believing.
I just found something out- if I make a mistake on purpose then I can trace the letters back along the mistake-line and fix the word. Is that cheating- I wonder? Cheating who? That's stupid. Daft. Dumb.
Be real handy if life was like that, wouldn't it?
Journal format? I don't think it can quite be called that, but yes... Either way. The musings of Michelangelo. An amazing plot will magically appear soon.
What did you think?
