I haven't blogged for a while, I know, my bad, but in my defence I've been stressed and now I'm sick. It's not swine flu, it's just a cold...
...except for at three in the morning when I can't sleep and the fear creeps in with the draft under the door, that I'm really sick and worse, I'm mortal.
This is something that hits me in different ways. Sometimes it makes me want to write now and write more. Get it done just in case... All those unfinished projects cluttering up my brain, all the big ideas, all the small delicate short stories that hide whimpering from the light... Other times, when faced with my mortality, I kinda go "meh". You can only do what you do and get done what you can in the time you have... It doesn't make me burn with creative juices but it reminds me that all the shit in my head, is at least my shit. It'll die with me. And some of it should.
We all have secrets, we all have stories, things to write. But there's some that should be written and shared, some that shouldn't and some that can't. I guess I should stop being maudlin and get to work on the ones I can write and the ones I want you to read.
I just discovered that maudlin has it's origins in the ecclesiastical Latin for Magdalena, deriving from allusion to pictures of Mary Magdalen weeping. How cool is that... There's a story in every word...
I'll be back later, with less whining and more words.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
I refuse to believe you're mortal
(rRh)
It is true that rumours abound, but thus far no one has felt the need to push the issue either way. For this I am thankful.
Seriously though, is any creator mortal? Even if all we leave behind is a collection of journals that let your descendants know who you were. It seems diaries and journals are very popular with people doing their family trees...
Post a Comment