Screensavers, one in particular, keeps rewarding me. It's a little thing, too true. I don't think we even
need screensavers anymore, do we? — old monitors used to pack it in, if you left an image, or some text, in one place for too long.
Those were the days
The word 'bullyrag' appeared out of nowhere, today. I had no idea this was a word, at least there was no recall, this time 'round. What a lovely word it is — almost a story within itself. It means to 'intimidate by bullying' or 'to vex by teasing,' or to '
badger.'
Words blow me away. Can't tell you why. I think it's because they help thoughts blossom. They turn up, unannounced like this, all the time — sometimes they materialize out of the ether, sometimes they scuttle out of my addled head like gremlins and start doing the macerena in the middle of my manuscript. (Pleases me no end, honestly. I find it quite bizarre.) I'll be waiting patiently now for bullyrag to burst out, into the blooming blankness, and begin to boogie-woogie.
Ballyrag's another brother for bantering's bully pulpit; ballyragged, bullyragging, both be brethren bouncers on the door of some distant dialogue's dimly lit dance floor. I hope they do show up. Most do, most out of the blue. It's a worry
This screensaver's a paradoxical genie of a thing. If I lose my drive, slumping into a semi-stupor, it'll fire up, out of nowhere, bright baby blue, and it'll sometimes whack me with its wordy whimsy, weird words, apparitions, swim across the screen, make a scene, a dreaming Genie with the bright eloquence.