Toys That Destroy A Child's Imagination

i think that the imagination is a very important part of growing up. it helps u learn what u want to do with yer life and how to fix problems, and in some cases create them lol. kids nowadays have sooo many toys that they have forgotten how to use their imagination.

Inspiration

i have waaaay bad writer's block. ive had it fer about a month and i cant shake it no matter how hard i try. i need suggestions and encouragement. Love and a Broken Heart are the best inspiration one can have but unfortunately i dont have either at the moment. i need help with my stories, they are all dead or dying. help me!!!!!! anyone......the touch is slipping from my grasp and its killing me.

Mexico 2007

we drove into the church parking lot at 10:45 on saturday night. as everyone piled out of the car (except for me, for i was frantacally searching for my left shoe) i heard sobbing. i looked out of the van and saw Giana Craig hugging Jacob as tight as she could and bawling. he patted her on the back and shrugged to his parents. everyone chuckled and asked if he thought she had missed him. i finally found my flip flop and tumbled out. i was passed from one set of arms to the next and then told to get my things. i asked matt for my bags, grabbed my sleeping bag, waved goodbye and stumbled to my car. mom and dad sat in the front and austin and i were in the back. i alternated chatting about random things that happened on the trip and dozing off on the way home. wen we got there i jumped out and waited while peanut thoroughly sniffed every inch of me before determining that it was in fact me and i ruffed his fur. roxy had some trash in her mouth as usual and she wouldnt come to me. i walked over and grabbed her ears like i always do and she backed up like she didnt know who i was and she acted a little weird till we went to bed and then she was quite herself again. i was exhausted but i had 26 e-mails and needed to reply to a few of them. when i walked up to my room peanut had some article of clothing that had been plucked from my laundry basket hanging from his mouth. (it was shredded) i chastised him only mildly and then hugged him and told them both how i had missed them. after visiting the cats and kissing each one i climbed into bed.

Not I

every now and then i get a feeling of restlessness so tangible i can taste it. i want to go on a quest like the heros in my stories or be kidnapped and rescued by a noble knight. i want to change the world with great deeds, or fly over the ocean to see the wonders of Europe, or climb a giant mountain. i want to write a magnificent novel and then live the lives of the characters in it. slowly as life trudges foreward i lose that feeling to monotony only to find it once more in a never ending cycle. perhaps the only way to rid myself of these bouts is to experience my grand adventure. who can tell? not i...