I started thinking (always a dangerous pastime) and wondered if kick-starting some writing could come from no apparent kick.
I have turned off the editor (who is probably sat at some bar somewhere anyway) and let the fingers free to do as they will.
Nothing is happening....
I need coffee.
Can you just ramble on about nothing and find it interesting?
The answer is no, Kate, you are beyond stupid. Can you get beyond stupid? Are there stages of stupid and what about before stupid - what's that?
Anyway, I'm not interested in the slightest. My own inner voice has bored the pants off me for a while now. How the fuck do you feel? If I am bored then how can you be interested in the inane claptrap that often adorns this blog?
I need a wee - the toilet seat is still broken, in case you wanted to know.
I have the mind of the femalest of female butterflies, I can't even go to the loo without being distracted by thoughts that have no relevance to the job in hand - erk! I am wondering if the Feckers have started eating toilet paper - am I not buying enough food - are they resorting to quilted muesli?
And why am I buying quilted toilet paper - eeeek, I have been brainwashed by the very adverts that I don't watch. What is wrong with ordinary paper with which to wipe - we lived with the unquilted variety for years and years and before that there was school loo paper? Paper? Paper? That was not paper. That was some kind of genital torture with the absorbancy of teflon.
Small Fecker is now talking to me in the voice of King Julian from the film Madagascar - there is no hope for any of us.
I need nicotine.
King Julian says that there is something that I shouldn't be missing on the tv but he is lying to get me off the computer. I shall give up the hot seat but not before I have ordered a ton of school loo paper.
I really should eat.
Hunted in fridge and found a piece of crusty cheese, half a tomato - (who puts half a tomato back in the fridge?) and a tub of houmous that has crisps already added - how thoughtful!
So, I will try not to lose hope about my writing and I will pray to the small Gods of Good Blogging that one day this stream of consciousness turns into a river and I can start making sense again.
And so the wait begins........
15 comments:
Well, I laughed anyway.
"…again," you say?
Thanks, Bee, provoking laughter is more than I could hope for!
Purely based on my own terms of making sense, Dood - one only hopes that there are other like-minded, butterfly-ed brains out there.
You had me laughing, too.
Houmous with crisps already in.
*snort*
Ah Minxy, the Gods of Good Writing are already with you and it is much fun, summer --albeit a wet one, is for lazing about, even writers need a holiday. Bxxx
Value added food is not funny, Elaine, crisps in houmous is one of the better combinations that inhabit the fridge.
I am working 10 hours a day, Beatrice! Lazing around means sleeping for six hours and then it all starts again!
I think I've just had a holiday - perhaps I need another one....
What a great idea. Streaming thoughts. I've been blocked so long I was wondering if there was some kind of brain laxative out there I could take. Perhaps this will do the trick!
Stream away, Roberta, but don't leave a mess. Random thoughts can be a bit icky.
Everything has its time and place, dear Minxling. Writing is often an escape - and right now you neither want nor need to escape.
The time will come, but it will be in a good way.
And meanwhile, carry on rambling down those neural pathways where you never know what's round the corner. xxx
I used to think that the Boogie Man was around the corner but I am grown up now!
I was going to post about celery the other day...still might.
(No kidding, the word verification is "mockwe")
Celery is good.
You are perfectly welcome, Elise, - now how about encouraging the RB across the Tamar?
I'll do my best ! They have the most hellish schedule. I think you'd need to put on a ballet festival or something.
People seem to think that no-one in Cornwall is interested in culture - which is wrong.
But you know there is a train that goes all the way to Paddington from Cornwall...
No, no, we like culture and we even have electric now!
Post a Comment