Mid Week Plotting

It's Wednesday. One minute past five in the afternoon on a Wednesday to be more precise.

A lot of advice I've been getting recently is that I need to be an online presence.

Get yourself out there.
Be in their face.
Ram it down their throats.

I'm still not sure who 'they' are...these sinister beings collected in front of the screen of infinite wisdom.

Well, here I am. Read me.

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Night

The night crawls on bended legs and searching fingers at the foot of my bed. I can hear it wheezing and muttering in its hollow soul. I can smell its presence and jealousy and hate. It reeks of cold and damp and Victorian evenings swirling in fog. I try not to make a single noise. Any utterance would trigger its awareness and I would be its prisoner all alone in my single bed. I cannot see it. This sense is deprived. Cut off from neurons racing down my spine. Black dilated pupils roll around scared sockets and settle on no physical thing. Between parted lips I am aware of a sour aftertaste. I have been kissed in my sleep by the mutant lurking in the corner and now it has had that first fatal taste there is no escape. My hands know that in painfully close proximity a light switch aches to be flicked. To banish the intruder beyond the walls of my bedroom and into the world to find someone else…anyone else. But my arms are paralysed. They refuse to mov

Crystal Clear Views

It's frustrating when all you can see are the problems in a situation. No matter how hard you try, the short term worries and panic end up clouding the view... (Photo by me, 2009) But if you risk a few crows feet and squint the bigger picture can appear. A more positive longer term. You breathe deeply, reassure yourself that eventually the problem will make sense and hunker down to make it all work out okay. (Photo by me, 2009)

Slackness

I've been so slack. Slacker than a pair of middle aged pants around the ankles of a slack jawed tight rope walker. I've been writing a few pages here and there and thinking many writery thoughts in my head. But it feels as though I haven't been doing enough and this is my eternal problem. So here I am writing something tangible and bankable and making you read it because it will make me feel as though I've actually done something with my day. As opposed to all the stuff I really have done with my day which is very impressive actually I'll have you know. It's just not in the general theme of writing or anything I might enjoy doing. And in other news it's been a stunning day in London town. Almost makes me happy to be here. Almost.

Always Freewriting

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