Day 3- Poem

10 million bright lights,

Connected by websites, shopping, and food.

10 million beeps, boops, and pings,

As people say 'I love you' over cyber space.

Webs of sticky electric green.

My web is slippery.

I keep sliding around,

Unhooked from my shoes.

10 million bright lights,

Blink twice if yes,

Blink once is no.

Blink for me baby,

Just tell me that you love me.

Day 4- 10 minute writing exercise

And when goblin red shoes. Leaves were always purple with spaghetti and soup in the lakes that leaves swam in. When the concrete. Flower petals drank beer. Never did the three story tall ant pitch a baseball in the past future of. Please stop. Stop the brushing of the plastic tower, the plastic tower is wiggling in the tornado. Stop the flossing and dental care. I have no. Blisters are jelly. Hospital jelly. Pudding and nutmeg and trays are in the back room of the gymnasium. I've never seen more sunshine in this pink pink shell under the sea. Houses. Swim swimming fast. Jello salad where did they put the pool? Who decided that oak trees were people? When I see the ant. I know it's season of green pears. School is a big fluffy pillow. Pillow. Pillow. Pious. No one green purple pink keeps running over. Sparkles red eyes and loose hamburgers spread across. Night time. It's time left for 'dings'!

Flower trench coat never saw it coming. Too fast. No. Blue subway. Hi, out of here stupid. Glowy crumbs tumbling surface of leaf ocean shlepping shoes. Raise. Sit. Sun. Too warm. Scratching. A vent sing to infinite nail head, cuticle dream. Ball point pen manicure Barcode barcode. Scan me. Stop. Three times often. Wind roasted beef. Sandwich. Orange peel. Cellphone. Laugh for dead concrete. Burning neck. Shrub. Keep the open purple fabric for last nights zoo parade. Cymbals. Monkey. Tight rope walkers forever. Blossoms trampoline. American beauty.

Day 5- “Drip” in Every Sentence Exercise

Sometimes my shower head drips all night. I imagine the drips burrowing a hole in between my eyes. It's like deep in my dreams, drips torture everyone in a moist mouldy world. When I wake up I's so stressed out that I have drips of sweat on my forehead. I wipe the drips away and try to think of happy places with no showers. But other things can drip too. Sinks can drip. Window sills can drip. Air purifiers can drip. I sound like I've lost my mind over a stupid shower drip, but I swear to you these drips are corroding my soul. If only there was a way to avoid the sweat and water drips, I would be a happy lady. But the drips keep coming and eventually I'm going to look like a piece of human swiss cheese with all the holes that this drip keeps pounding into me. It's time to fight this drip before I meet a fate of pre-sliced white bread.

Day 6- Random Word Generation 10 minutes

1^st

Tea is a personal thing. The moment a kettle whistles, deafening your ears, you know you are in for a trip. A force of nature in drinkable form. Whether you choose to drink jasmine or rose or camomile or green, your body will thank you. The slow release of stress never fails to relax you. People say that coffee is the king of caffeine and I think tea is the queen of caffeine. The lifting of the curved rim of a beautifully ordained cup up to your lips is filled with anticipation and excitement. But be careful not to startle your eager taste buds with a scalding hot sip too soon.

2^nd

There was a stone attic. The space was filled with boxes and toys crammed in by clammy hands during years of spring cleaning. The attic used to frighten the little children in the house because the dusty. old piano seemed to play itself. One evening, while their mother was educating their father about the art of Tae Kwon Do, the children snatched the last dessert pancake and ran up to test their will in the attic. The older child, a bit of a chubby guy, sat on the piano bench only to break it. The kids fell through the floor of the attic and right into the living room to witness their mother's final attempt to seduce their father.

Day 7- Journey within our bodies

  Slippin' in, nothing but fun pink and red and blue, nothing but soft and slime to sleep in. Oops! Wrong slide, slippin' again but further down, down and down slippin' through pink and patterns and goofy shapes. Grab a thing like a hole in the wall and slip right through, leave everything behind and go slippin' down a new tube. Slippin' away feelin' nothing nothing but stick and smooth and slime. Its a silly thing to slip for so long I think, maybe stop slippin' and start scooting or climbing. Climb around but don't get sucked into a fun pocket or a big hole! Climb till you can climb no more and finally rest on the soft, bumpy muscle. Oops! Time to start sliding again!