Writing Prompt Therapy

My best friend is trying to lighten my not-so-happy show-closing mood by getting me to write a bit. She's sweet that way, and I adore her. The prompt was:

You have to use at least 100 words and then text back. It must start with:
“There are two kinds of people in the world, _______&________.”

And this was my reply:

There are two kinds of people in this world. Those who remember, and those who don’t. Those who don’t keep living their lives, going through the day-to-day toil our society has gotten used to. They get up every morning, go to work, come home, sleep, and do it all over again the next day, living for the two days off they get each week. And by the time those days roll around, they are so shot, they sit in front of mind-numbing screens and do nothing except complain about how time got away from them.

But those who remember linger a bit. They know how things used to be. Before. When the world was calmer. Quieter. They are watchful. They see what’s happening around them and yearn for something else. Something more. They yearn for the stars because that is where the secrets are kept. High above us, twinkling with amusement. The stars know.

I thought I'd post it here. To remember...

Hers was far more lighthearted, creative, and fun. Because that's who she is! Posted with permission, of course...the lovely Bethanie Gellerman...

There are two kinds of people in the world, me and me. 

No, there aren’t. 

Yes, there are. 

Because everyone else, I believe; are cyborgs. Or perhaps chimpanzees. I don’t know because I haven’t met everyone. 

And you’re not likely to as long as we are battling for space in the same head. 

I did not ask for your opinion. 

And yet you cannot escape it. 

Shut up while I write this. As I was saying, I am unique in all the world. 

And so am I!

Oh, very well. What shall we do tonight?

Well we seem to be off to a roaring start talking to ourself. 

Ugh. I can’t even get multiple personalities right. so many crazies have legions of souls in their heads and all I get is you. 

I know right? It’s like the lottery. Like Christmas. 

Or the Hunger Games.

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