It appears that all of those folks who say who say that disrupting your usual routine is great for creativity are correct. I've left routine far behind and am nearly drowning in fresh bits to season future narratives. There's the giant buzzard on top of the decrepit barn that watched me run by. Then the rabid koi. I was sneezed out of a giant nose, saw how a nuclear reactor works, was nearly killed twice by people in black trucks, heard great quotes...
The list runs for a quite a long way, covering funny to scary, delicious to gross, mundane to profound. I actually worked out an entire story during a run that I shared with cows, corn, and nasty flies. Now if only I could find the time to write it down.
Seems that breaking apart routine isn't all roses.
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