Sleepwalking my way through life: "And I have to agree with him."



"And I have to agree with him."

All personal information that you provide here will be governed by the Privacy Policy of Blogger.com. More...

An empty house, a dark room, a laptop, an open word document, and a library full of music.

I sit here, coke by my side, music coming through the speakers, and no other distractions to speak of. My fingers hover over the keys ready to do my bidding and work their magic.

"The seat was hard and cold as he sat by his desk, a bright solitary lamp casting shadows in his deep sullen face."

And I stop. I've barely pulled out of the driveway and I've already hit my first obstacle. A wall blocking my path, hindering me from moving forward. I know what should lie behind it, but I can't see it.

This is a very common occurrence.

I haven't written anything in a good while. The last two stories I had were in the middle of summer, one conjured up out of my morning adventures to the train station and one dreamed up for a friend. Each of them taking me a day or two to finish and perfect. I may have enjoyed them both, but I feel that they weren't my best. One of them not too bad, the other barely filling a page.

God only knows the last time I wrote before those two.

I'm feeling a lot of things about this, annoyance, anger, frustration. But to tell the truth, I'm actually quite upset.

I love writing. It's my one and only passion. I enjoy merging my fingers with a pen or keyboard to produce words that flow on to the paper. My dream is to one day make a career out of it, filling articles and books with writings all by me. And as I sit here on my Lapdancer I feel the fear of that dream slipping away.

Yes, I am typing this blog. A blog that will be soon reaching its three hundredth post in one and a half years. A blog that has served me well in my many adventures and predicaments. But as a wise man once said, "Writing a blog is much easier than writing a book."

And I have to agree with him.

So I click Save As and bury it in my writings folder under "21.11.05". Maybe some day when I'm looking poking around in that folder I'll stumble across it and add a dead man lying on the floor. But until then I leave it to gather dust in the cyber closet of my Lapdancer.

If only writing a book was as easy as writing a blog.
« Home | Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »
| Next »

0 Comments:

Post a Comment