I was gonna write a story all about a dog hero in the war and I wrote pages of ideas in my notebook and then one day I went to write it up and... nothingness.
I turned back to my notebook and found my self writing this...
As a writer (a bad one at that), writers block is an evil barrier. So when I re-read 'A Dog Named Christmas' by Greg Kincaid, I wanted to write about this book. I got enthusiastic about it then, nothing. And as I write these words, listening to 'What a Buzz' by Olly Murs, a little too loud in the dark, I have an epiphany. Inspiration is right under our noses, just our minds choose not to see it, just like how it chooses not to see our nose. We get inspired as writers, musicians and artists to create. To do what we enjoy and what we do well, above all else because at the end of the day, not matter how old you are, it will always come down to
LOOK AT ME!
LOOK AT WHAT I HAVE ACCOMPLISHED AS A HUMAN!
Is this every human life? even in today's modern art of selfies, which screams the
LOOK AT ME
bit.
It finishes there. On the next page it has numbers.
3119209512
If you wanted to know. I don't know what they mean either.
The book was to be called Medal for War Dogs. It was to be a commemoration for the thousands of dogs that served in Vietnam and saved countless lives. No awards or medals were given to these brave and loyal dogs. It was if it did not matter when a dog sacrificed his life. Few if these war dogs survived and the ones that did where callously abandoned.
If you want to write that, please, be my guest. A attribution would be nice though...haha.
Anyway, it's late.
Catch you later, Procrastinators.
Like_whateve_5 out.
