Why is it that we are constantly trying to achieve the things that make us most frustrated by their absence? Why is it that the people we crave most to be part of our lives never seem to even notice our existence, unless it suits their agenda? Why am I asking all these dumb questions after only one cup of tea…?
Hang on, let’s fix that before anything else happens.
It’s been a tough week, and we’re only at Wednesday. However, there are solutions for all my issues easily to hand, there’s progress on my Experimental Poetry (more of that on the work blog) and frankly, that’s all there would be on any other Wednesday. The problem is clearing out all the pointless stuff I can do nothing about from a brain that uses this stuff as means to berate me on my lack of progress.
Except, of course, that’s complete bollocks too.
I missed a deadline for a contest yesterday, that’s so not for Poets Like Me. That’s gonna end up as my next video project, as it happens: all these people I see, writing flowery prose or being all energetic and in people’s faces as if that’s the way we all write. I’m beginning to realise the gulf of difference between me and everybody else not as a disadvantage but a selling point. Different is defined by other’s ignorance.
Ascribing to the school of ‘everything happens for a reason’ as I did, for so many years, means that at the back of my mind this week will end up as more of a personal watershed than it ever appeared would be the case going into it. The loss of a family member to COVID shouldn’t have been inevitable, but it was. Knowing the truth is a long way from experiencing its consequences, after all. When that happens, everything alters.
This is, like it or not, a page in the book I need to write for myself.
Blogging is therapy again, for the foreseeable future. Please fasten your seatbelts.