… for being so absent lately.
Though it isn’t an excuse, I’ll fall back on that dismal aspect of human nature and attempt to absolve myself of any wrongdoings by providing you with an adequate 3 point resource on how it’s really not my fault.
Point 1 – I’ve been so busy that if I were a Troll protecting the make believe bridge to Narnia I just made up right now, well, Narnia would no longer be Narnia – it would be the next best holiday destination. I have been writing though, about an article a week but woe is me, much of my time is taken up in maintaining active social media accounts for work.
You need a Twitter, Facebook or Google + guru right now, don’t look at me. I’m fresh out of ideas.
Point 2 – I have seriously pissed karma off and I don’t even know what I did. The amount of minor mishaps I have had with my skeleton over the past month would be enough to fill up a small encyclopaedia. Seriously. From toe injuries to wrist massacring’s, it’s a wonder I still resemble a human body. Fine, maybe not an encyclopaedia but a good weekend read in a grubby motel off Highway 5. At least.
Point 3 – I blame Trump because well, why wouldn’t you?
I don’t think history has ever provided us with such an apt “he is the cause of everything that’s wrong in this world, my life and this entire solar system really” excuse, people. Ever.
I am not kidding. It’s every man, woman and child for themselves and I can’t even copyright this one. Take it. Run with it.
I’ve been busy because Trump exists.
With that being said, I make no promises except an absolute true declaration – I have missed all of you. Truly.
I’ll try and make it up for it and write some more, or at least be more present if my fingers remain from that biyatch injury infliction.
I hope you’re listening karma. I’m a Hindu and I ain’t going anywhere so let’s try and be friends, okay? Or at least civil.
See you soon my peeps xoxo
I just watched a video that discredited the whole elusive work-life balance thing we all crave.
It was for work and I got through four minutes of it thinking there’s four minutes of my life I’m never getting back because it really helped me in NO possible way for my actual job. Even after trying to deploy all my imaginative, creative abilities I pride myself on having honed until now.
But whatever – Another story.
What it did mention though is how the whole work-life balance concept is a piece of you know what because when you love something you do, the lines between work and play blur.
Sounds blissfully ignorant if you ask me.
The guy then mentioned how creatives (supposedly people like you and me) don’t believe in the concept of work life balance because we can’t shut off our creative brain no matter how much we try.
I don’t know about you but I can definitely shut my creative part of the brain. In fact, I would suggest that my “creative” part often leaves me lurching in the pitch bleakness of nothingness because it’s decides to go on an impromptu dark orgy with some buddies of it.
Again, another story.
After just having spat out three articles of varying degrees of dullness, today is definitely one of those days I wish I had more write and non-write balance. So to the irritating perky dude who declares work life balance is a façade for us mere folk who would love to be a beached walrus right now, I’d like to politely tell you to shut up.
I’d get more creative with my dismissive attitude but I can’t. My creative side just left me a note that says Do Not Disturb.
You know those days when you realise you haven’t looked in the mirror for a while.
I mean metaphorically.
I admit it – I’ve been procrastinating. Writing the last couple of months has been nothing short of an ordeal for me, like Build Rome in a Day sort of suffering rather than incinerate it.
I’m not saying I’m cured or anything but the below video really helped to put things in perspective for me once more. It’s easy to forget the love I have in my bones for this beautiful creative piece of life and though I tend to feel brain dead most days with regards to creating words out of thin air recently, this video stirred that passionate, wanting desire I have for letters all over again and that’s got to be a good thing, right?
Don’t stop what you love people, just remember, fights are a normal part of an unhealthily healthy, obsessive, hot, overzealous love you have with something or someone. So to my writing gene, I have three words for you. Bring – It – ON.
I swear, this is a viable condition often experienced by Writer’s in winter. It’s called Frozen Writer’s block. There’s no cure except for gluttonous extreme vegetation in front of the BBC channel for inspiration.
You know that saying, one girl’s loss is another one’s gain. You’re welcome, another week free of punishment from my brain. Don’t say I don’t give you anything.
Disclaimer: For faster results, attack the virus with a never ending supply of buttered popcorn and unhealthy salt and fake cheese infused Cheese and Bacon Balls.
Let me know if you want my address or I could just lie here with my mouth open and you can pelt junk food into it. See, there’s a positive to everything – even Frozen Writer’s Block.
It’s a question all of us writers have been (or will be) inevitably faced with, let’s be honest.
Do you write for yourself or do you write to become popular?
But here’s the deal:
When you write for the masses you get recognition. When you write for yourself, it’s this amazing cathartic experience that may keep you off the suicide watch program. Though slit my wrists Suzie may have been pushed to the backburner for a little while, chances are no one else really cares.
Write for everyone and at least you get a comment or two amongst that deafening crickets’ sound I at least, have become so very well versed with.
I’ll be damned if I know.
C’mon, it’s not like you come to this blog for answers is it? Because if it is, please don’t.
I already have enough lawsuits led by Psychiatrists around the world against me and I’m kinda broke, so the joke’s on them.
But still, I don’t want your insanity on my conscious. You have been adequately warned. Just be entertained or at least pretend to be, my ego bruises easily.
I’ve been thinking.
Then I thought some more about writing and used it as a viable excuse for procrastinating, ahem, I mean researching. For my writing of course.
Turns out you really can think too much so I decided to write about thinking instead which is why you got this fairly pointless post. I know, what’s new?
Apparently mum was right when she told me to think before I spoke. Or in this case write.
I think I’ll just go back to thinking.