A Few Days Off

Those of you who have followed me for any length of time will know I love to post.  Since I discovered blogging I have enjoyed almost every minute and am happy posting as many times a day as inspiration takes me.

For the last few days though I have taken some time away and just let a few scheduled pieces trickle through.  I’m still as inspired as I was but I just felt frightfully tired and was busier than normal at work and therefore decided to concentrate on simply sleeping more.   I have never been one for a lot of sleep but this week I have craved it terribly and am thoroughly enjoying the idea of an early night.  Instead of the 5 or 6 I usually get by on I have been aiming to get more in the region of 7 to 8 and I feel a lot better for it.

I am looking forward to getting back into the swing of things with my writing but right now I am just going to keep writing down ideas and scribbling in my notebook and I will return to writing in a couple of days.

Right now though it’s time for bed 🙂

 

Inexpressible Notions – In the Dark 7

Sometimes the words are just lost in the noise.

Another month of M’s writing prompts lies ahead.  I did them all in December but was less successful in January.  Let’s see how we do in February shall we.

You can see the prompts here.


It’s been an odd week this week.  I have barely been able to get to my blog as life seemed to get in the way.  I found my days filled, from morning until night, and most nights I found myself looking longingly at my blog but losing the battle and having to sleep instead.  In the past I would have beat myself up about it but this time I simply succumbed and let life do it’s thing.   It did not look like a fight I was going to win so I chose to not have the fight.

Things feel a little more under control now though and I have managed to post a couple of pieces but it’s the piece below I have found myself struggling with.  I started it and flew through those lines, quite excited by the idea and really keen to get it written out.  Five days later however and the energy I felt at the time and the ideas that were forming have disappeared.  I had made a few notes but I am thinking that the moment has passed and it will be a piece I may never finish.  I have only ever had one other piece like that and again, it was a piece that I let lie dormant for a few days and the flames turned to embers and were eventually extinguished.

I’m okay with that though, I have learned something about my own creative process and will hopefully not make the same mistake again.  I guess the title of this works in many ways…


INEXPRESSIBLE NOTIONS

In the everyday back and forth of life Johnathan Cholmley-Ambers was a man who simply went with the flow.  He was as forthright as he was opinionated, which was not at all, and in most situations could largely be relied upon to cause neither a fuss, a drama nor a kerfuffle.  His friends, of which he had exactly none, would likely have described his as wet if they existed and those who would count themselves as colleagues would often forget his name so forgettable was he.

It therefore came as a surprise to him, as much as those who knew him, when one morning he awoke and quite simply decided that today he would speak his mind.  He did not know why today of all days he had made this decision but a decision it was and he took to it with much aplomb.  It was also somewhat of a revelation that he held such strong opinions, because he was pretty certain that he had not historically felt so passionately about anything at all.

He awoke, showered and dressed and very briefly considered having breakfast but then decided that the marmalade on toast could go screw itself and instead opted to head out to work with an empty belly and a skip in his step.

His poor neighbour, Mrs Laud, a full bosomed kindly old lady who sported a purple rinse and a love of cats stood aghast as he greeted her with a “Shove your good morning up your bottom” as she was bringing in the milk.  She was still stood there quite speechless as Jonathan’s  front gate snapped closed and he headed for the bus.

 

 

G is for god.

I’m not looking for a debate or deep discussion on whether a supernatural power does, or does not exist. 

I’m not looking for a debate or deep discussion on whether a supernatural power does, or does not exist.  You are more than welcome to leave your thoughts on the matter if you wish – but I don’t intend to get into fisticuffs over it.

I just wanted to see for myself whether I would start to write about it and then carry on given that when I sit down to write I do not always know where it will go.  I have something of a history with organised religion and whilst you will probably have noticed a passive aggressiveness in my writing towards it I don’t think it is something I have fully explored my feelings on yet.

Having got even this far I do not feel my thoughts on the matter are fully formed and I need to work on expressing them more clearly.  They’re more emotions than words and they don’t always make a lot of sense.  Actually, I might not quite know what those feelings are yet but when I do I am sure you will be the first to know.

Until then I think I will stick with my light derision and mockery until I am in a more serious mood.


Photo courtesy of pixabay

A is for arseholes

Welcome my alphabet of thoughts.

The world is full of them, we all know that. Pompous, annoying and wholly unpleasant individuals who, if you could get away with it or were rather good at fighting, you would happily punch in their man-vagina. Turn around, I bet there is one near you right now.

He’s probably a loud mouth breather or perhaps he’s cooking fish in the office microwave whilst talking loudly about something pointless. I don’t know you or the circles you move in so you may even be in proximity to someone who’s rather fond of molesting prospective actors, some drunk and others not. You might just move in lofty circles indeed and you can see a vagina grabbing orange faced buffoon or a man of god senate elect who’s rather fond of fourteen year olds from where you’re sitting.

The point is they are everywhere.

I say him, it could well be a her, but my experience is that arseholes tend to be primarily male.

Let me give you an example. On the way into work this morning there was a spandex clad one on a bicycle who insisted on weaving dangerously between traffic causing the impatient driver arseholes in their cars to beep, swerve and drive dangerously to pass him almost wiping out one of those dog walking types who probably lets their dog shit everywhere for my kids to step in and drag it into my car making it smell like the bottom of a rottweiler. And exhale…

It really was a veritable cornucopia of arseholes. Unless there is a better collective noun for them. What about ‘a clench’ or perhaps ‘a puckering’.

Anyway, onto my rather laboured point. The world is full of them, in fact we have a glut, so try not to be one today, and I will too.

Tomorrow: B is for balls

How very curious

Just a thought or two

So, I wrote here about the busy week I had culminating in events of the weekend, and following that I found myself rather weary for a few days and catching up on things so had no opportunity to write.

The majority of the stuff I published in the last week and a half were written before last week commenced so I found myself having done little or no writing for over a week when I sat down to write this morning.

Curious it was that I really struggled.  I’ve been able to churn out up to 3 or 4 pieces a day for months effortlessly but when I sat there everything seemed very foreign to me.  I looked at my previous posts and they seemed wholly unfamiliar and whilst I have tried to keep up with comments I had to keep going back to look at what  I had written.  Lots of the ideas I had seemed rather empty and it struck me that my brain has been in a wholly different non creative place.

Browsing through my reader I wondered how much I had missed.  I have read a few things recently but so very little as I slipped back into the routines I had before I took up writing a few months ago and it struck me how very easy it would be for me to simply put down my pen and to not write again.

I had a few pointless conference calls at work today so I managed to scribble down a few limericks and haiku, and slowly things started to feel familiar again.  Tonight I have managed to plonk myself in front of the keyboard and I can just about feel the ideas starting to come back and thoughts forming.

I haven’t done this for long, so perhaps I do not have the muscle memory quite formed yet but I am now more aware of the need to keep feeding my brain and to try and maintain the creative processes because I didn’t much like the idea of not doing this again though it would be quite easy to let something else take its place because life can just get in the way sometimes.