Sample Writing

I've been trying to find ways to deal with my daily stresses and inability to sleep at night.  My newest idea is to just anything before I go to bed until my mind is exhausted.  By that time, I won't have anything on my mind and can sleep easy.

Here's my latest production.  Any thoughts?

Scratch. Scratch. Crack. Pop.  The sound of the needle striking the record filled his dimly lit apartment.  The cracking and subsequent pop strangely reminded him of bacon sizzling in the frying pan and then a loud pop to signal that it was time to remove it from the heat.  The soothing sounds of a simpler life.  It is these little things that could always ease his restless mind.  In fact, it is these seemingly insignificant moments that he looked forward to whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Then the song came on, "I've got you under my skin.
I've got you deep in the heart of me.
So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me."

Ben softly sang the lyrics along with ol' Frank Sinatra almost as if they were onstage together back in back in the 50s and 60s.

Listening to vinyl in the 21st century is practically unheard of, unless you are a person who is far into their golden years.  Ben, however, is not one of these people.  He's in the prime of his life during a generation where everything is digital and thousands of songs can fit on a device no larger than a stick of chewing gum.  Phenomenal world that he lives in, truly.  By no means is he opposed to this lifestyle either.  He owns an iPhone with hundreds of songs that he has been collecting for years and each of them with a story of significance.

Still, the interesting part of his affinity towards playing records is that he enjoyed the imperfections.  The cracks and the pops and authenticity of the vocalist's voice are so much more meaningful to him.   He felt more connected with the message of the song.  There was no digital enhancement, no auto tune, zero Dolby surround sound, and the list can go on with tech babble.

"I'd sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of havin' you near"

As the record spun, Ben escaped deeper away from the pressures of the world to a time when flaws and imperfections were much more prevalent and there wasn't a minimum requirement of mistake-free.  Everyone's life today has to lived error free. There's no opportunity for even the first shoe to drop, let alone the second.
Sadly, he is and always has been a culprit of this. Like the proverbial kid with his hand in the cookie jar, he has always been found guilty of such maintaining such an unrealistic expectation of perfection.  One of his few escapes is his love of listening to records.

Ever since he was a student, his sole goal was always perfection.  Being the best wasn't enough because the best isn't always perfect.  A high score of a 95  in the class wasn't a 100.   This maddening trend continued into high school and college.  Anything short of excellence was deemed unsuccessful.  This innate feeling stemmed from a turbulent childhood.  Furthermore, he carried this baggage into the early years of his professional career.  Despite successes and accomplishments far beyond expectations, to him, these final results were flawed.  Imperfect.  Not right.

Crack.  Crack. POP!

"And I like you under my skin."

The beautiful imperfection of the record easing him away from the lofty expectations in his own world.  Such a sweet melody.


As the record scratched to a stop, he leaned forward in his recliner to grab a sip of Scotch, his ideal companion for record playing.  At that moment, for some unidentifiable reason, he thought about her.  Perhaps it was the song that was playing or maybe the pair of green mittens that she left on his recliner the last time he saw her.  Either way, thoughts of her ran through his mind.  And just like the record, she was imperfect; yet, she truly calmed his soul.

She was not the picturesque woman that becomes plastered across billboards in NYC or the bikini model on the cover of Sports Illustrated.  First of all, she was short.  Shorter than typical standards, but it worked for them almost by design.  Whenever they would lay together, her head would lay snug on his chest with their toes meeting at the same point together so that they could intertwine.  Faint freckles dotted her face; contrary to the airbrushed, photoshopped complexion that women aspire to daily.  Yet, it was as if each of those tiny freckles were meant to be there - placed with the most deft of hands.  Her smile was no Mona Lisa, but it was the light in the darkest of rooms.  The color of her eyes were similar to that of the hundreds of pairs of eyes that he had seen in his life, but there was a deeper serenity that he saw while gazing into them.  They gave him the feeling one would have while staring up a vast moonlit summer sky on a clear night: amazing, remarkable, and breathtaking all at the same time.