My Warped Mind


I drew this picture. I am not an artist, I am a writer. However, this image gives an insight to the essence of my morbid personality.

I am starting a goal that I write for 10 minutes everyday. I need to drain my brain of its crazy thoughts. When writing for the 10 minutes, it is wise to not stop and to go with it. I have realized that I have a weird passion for writing about people in trouble. Whether it be these people are dying, going to die, or are thinking about it. So, with that being said, here is my first piece of work from my 10 minutes of writing brought to you in part by my warped mind.

This is what I wrote yesterday ( 1/26/12). It starts out with randomness and then starts to flow into a story. I am keeping it as is, even with the thought in the beginning. Of course, I will be kind enough to edit. 🙂

I’m not all really sure what to write about in my 10 given minutes, but perhaps it should be about murder. Perhaps I should wake up from an awful dream… The sweat from my body covered the bed. It was disgusting. The dream left me in a paralyzed state. My eyes frantically looked around my bedroom. I then realized I was not in my bedroom. I desperately tried to remember the details of the night before and my mind drew blanks. Feeling I could move, I tried to get up from the bed. I attempted to move my arms, but they went nowhere. I also tried to move my legs. The results were the same. My head was in the same state. What felt like paralysis, was not. As I attempted to move my limbs, I could feel straps pressed against my skin. I felt a strap on my forehead, and realized that I was screwed. There was no escape in sight and the only thing my eyes could manage to see was the ceiling and the top part of the walls. It wasn’t comforting. I could hear some distant noises, but had trouble making them out. That’s’ when I heard a terrifying scream. It was not what I wanted to hear at the moment. Although, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear or what I really expected to hear when you find yourself strapped to a bed in a dark room. The screaming stopped and I heard metal clang onto the floor. Someone began yelling. It was too far away to make out the words. The yelling stopped and footsteps made their way to wherever I was.

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Posted on January 26, 2012, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 7 Comments.

  1. I’m sure you can. The whole concept is so oddly fascinating !
    Writing is the best way of catharsis.
    Keep up the good work !

    Like

  2. Go, Cindi! I love how you lead yourself into the exercise and then dive in head first. Quick timed writes are awesome tools for clearing cobwebs or shaking the monkeys off our backs. And they also offer fodder for the next novel or story.

    Like

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