This post is a writing exercise where we spend just five minutes writing, unedited, on a given prompt. This week the prompt is alone. It's writing practice, but it's also a little soul-journaling as the randomly selected prompts always dig something up. You should try it.
A man lays all alone in a hospital room far away from family.
He's not alone really but he's unaware and unwilling to notice, maybe. Unbelieving in a world he can't see while inside him, where he also can't see, something is bleeding and no one knows yet why or what or when, but he can't see.
He can't see.
A probe will poke around inside him later and find the source, we hope.
A probe pokes us all at some point and we hope or we don't but we'll see and alone is not a state of being but a falsehood in our minds - a place we create ourselves.
Alone is a place we put ourselves.
But he's not alone really and reality funnels us all to a time of recognition, a day of revelation, a good, sharp look at inside. Funneled, funneling, trickling down time to The Time.
No one can see but we're not alone.
I'll keep the fresh-cut flowers alive and the kids alive and I'll stop the bleeding at the tips of my fingers and all the while he's alone, but he's not.
I hope he sees that he's not.
My dad is in the hospital again. It's been a long recovery after his miracle/transplant at the beginning of the year and we knew it would be touch and go. He wouldn't want me to say any more than that, but I saw the writing prompt for this week's Five Minute Friday was alone and I just got off the phone with him, so there ya go.
And the bleeding fingers? Really. I sliced the tips of my fingers opening a container of yogurt this morning and they won't stop bleeding. That makes the 2nd time this week that I've cut myself doing something stupid.
There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.
That's slightly dramatic.
But how appropriate for a day when my dad is literally bleeding inside and I'm bleeding outside and my computer keys and everything else I touch is tinged with red.