Confabulate – Friday’s Word of the Day

We’ve all confabulated at times, some more than others. There are scary confabulators though. I think you all know who I mean.

Thanks to Kat for this wonderful Word of the day.

like mercury colliding...

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Today’s Word of the Day on Dictionary.com, Confabulate, is an interesting word for our times. Basically, it means to talk casually, converse or chat. It originated in 1610’s, from confabulatus,  past participle of Latin confabulari  “to converse together,” from com-  “together” (see com- ) + fabulari “to talk, chat, “from fabula “a tale” (see fable ).

It has a second meaning though, coined in psychological circles in 1924, that has found its way into our current dialog. Wikipedia offers a comprehensive look:

Confabulation is a disturbance of memory, defined as the production of fabricated, distorted, or misinterpreted memories about oneself or the world, without the conscious intention to deceive. Wikipedia goes on to explain, people who confabulate present incorrect memories ranging from “subtle alterations to bizarre fabrications”, and are generally very confident about their recollections, despite contradictory evidence.

There are several theories related to confabulation but one that caught my attention is the theory that…

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Traveled

Quite how Owen knows so much about me I have no idea, but he’s crafted my story brilliantly!

No Talent For Certainty

So many things he thought he’d see
And do have come unraveled;
It’s not how far he’s gone that counts,
It’s where and when he’s traveled

For though his route was pure and planned,
He ended up on detours,
And went the way he had to go:
That path, his only recourse —

The glamor he once sought is gone.
Down dusty roads, and graveled,
The few who knew him will recall:
That’s just the way
He traveled

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Love hurts

Unhand me woman! Let me be.

I’m leaving now, I have to flee.

I cannot stand another day.

You’ve hurt me so, in every way.

 

Unhand me now! Unless you stop

then I shall fight until I drop.

Unhand me now, I say again,

I cannot tolerate the pain.

 

Please let me be, just let me go.

I really used to love you so!

Now you have changed, or maybe not.

Perhaps I earned just what I got.

 

It may have been my fault, not yours.

Perhaps you really had just cause?

If that’s the case, then please forgive,

but let me go, please let me live!

 

(I have been happily married to my wife for 43 years now. In that time we have never been violent to one another – maybe the odd harsh word,  but not many!!)

Twittering Tales #42 – 25 July 2017

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 140 characters or fewer.

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Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Reveille sounds at six they said
but who would dare to wake the dead
the bugle call was right on time
and Mary’s ghost arose sublime!

(130 characters)

  • In 1851, the four-story Marshall House was built by Mary Marshall.
  • It served as a hospital for soldiers toward the end of the Civil War, and during two yellow fever epidemics.

Twittering Tale #41 – 18 July 2017

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 140 characters or fewer.

1500362627601Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

The swish of the blades, vision that fades,
relentless and squeaky, makes me feel peaky
braking and curses.
Smash, crash.
Thank God for nurses!

(140 characters)