Posts Tagged ‘ postaday2012 ’

Saline

Breathe.

Just breathe.

It feels like forever since I’ve been able to stop and breathe and sort through my thoughts.

Imagine Dragons. New band I’ve been listening to. When I get home from work I sort through iTunes’s proffered musical treats and then I plug my brain into my iPhone and close my eyes.

Trying to breathe.

Free time, something I miss and wish
I had more of. Scratch that, something I wish I had any of.

This post has no flow to it whatsoever. I’m too tired to write most of the time lately – which is mightily frustrating for someone who can only process things properly by writing them down.

Salt water and sunshine so close I can taste the saline.

I’m running out of clever titles

I think I have too much to say, and never enough time to say it. I’ve got theories, like little stars – lighting up my mind.

So many ideas that I never talk about. I have never wondered why, until this very moment, 04:41 EST. 09/05/12.

Something new to think about anyway.

Everlasting Everest

Once again Everest haunts my dreams and taunts my waking mind.

I see the cloud cover on the peak, survey the blanket of fog and snow stretching for leagues in every direction. I can feel the freezing wind on my face and I always wake just as I leap from the summit and the currents carry me aloft.

Someday.

Write, you fools.

Finally, I have a solid plan for finishing this project.

So many other ideas have been pounding at the doors in my mind while I’ve floundered about trying to come up with a believable piece of storytelling.

I could hear them, singing outside my window each night, begging for their turns, for their stories to be told. Their cries became shrill and I had forced the chorus of their shrieking demands to become a sort of background chatter – that while growing dim at times – never fully quieted.

They can spared a bit of my attention now.

Cosmic Imperative

I ruminate. Rather often, in fact. But rarely of late have I put fingers to keyboard.

The idea of a cosmic imperative is at once comforting and disconcerting.

Comforting in a way that none of the religious traditions I am heir to have ever been.

Disconcerting because if this was intended then the universe is filled with a dark purpose I cannot quite comprehend.

I wonder if our technological aptitude has subverted this process, if we have not in some ways taken this imperative into our own hands. I wonder what the consequences will be.

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Newton. He’s been right about much more than mathematics for us to disregard that.

I wonder. As always, when these quiet moments find me – it is some more wondering that I must do. Driven to it almost, as if there were an imperative that I do so.

I look inward first – ever inward – as if there are answers buried in my mind. Then pushing outward, sometimes, just sometimes I can almost feel my consciousness expand, encompassing much that is not me. And then it is gone, and I look out through a window onto the mundanity that is reality. And…

When I look at the world around me, those wonderings are generally dark. Hope, like the little glowing stars of cities seen from orbit, breaks up the darkness in places, but the shadow always grows to reclaim them.

Just a thought

“…still trying to square a circle…”

Interesting phrase, that.

Postssss

So many half-written posts sit in my upload cue.

I don’t even have time to complete a thought lately.

Hrmph.

Invictus

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

Just a lyric

“I can still remember the words and what they meant, as we etched them with our fingers in years of wet cement.”

I rather like that.

Upon further review…

This schedule has left me drained, depleted. Sometimes my muse flees like a rat down dark hallways fast filling with water.

But still I manage. Ploddingly adding a word here, excising one there; editing…an excuse to flex fingers on keyboard.

And then there comes a sudden explosion of inspiration or of something very nearly so:

Rewriting the first several chapters, adding more depth, new characters emerge and demand that they be explored, explained – given stage time, the novel moves in strange new directions. My synopsis goes out the window.

Deadlines and plot be damned. The story begins to write itself; I feel more like a medium than a writer. I begin to believe that the words merely pass through me, from the aether, to you.

Yes, I know I’m weird. I’ve made peace with that.