Lost in the plot

It has been a struggle for me lately to write. It is not that my life has been mundane, I have been going all out and I have meet all sorts of interesting creatures. It seems that I have been more actor than playwrite. I have enjoyed being center stage, the belle of the ball and the talk of the town. My 'blossoming', enhanced of course by great friends and that certain buzz one gets when the weather improves, is healthy. A writer however, needs to be a recluse in order to produce (a little ten cent poetry there). A writer also has to experience life, they must be smacked by the ridiculous, smitten with the odd and unique, its matter of being out in it and then finding the time to write it all down. A friend of mine thinks that Annapolis 2007 will come pouring out of me as soon as I am away from it for awhile. Maybe she is right, maybe I simply need time to digest, this tiny post must be nothing more then gas or temporary bout of acid reflux...Tums Ta Tums Tums.

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The Mood I am in...

I am drizzly, I am clouded, I am hidden under the umbrella, ever self-consumed. Bored, worried, in need of a random sun burst or a thunderstorm, I need something to clear the air, change the climate. Nothing to worry about, I am simply house-trapped, concerned about finances, pensive of about the future and present. Trying to avoid the mud puddles, the sink holes that I too often fall into. Who am I today? Am I the world beater that I sometime project, or am I the aimless lad, the fella that floats through life, the guy that rarely succeeds, and yet has been known to fail brilliantly. Am I simply whining to whine? Bored by it all right now, missing a certain girl (or 2 or 3), I will sort it out, or at the very least survive, that I always do..I am a surviver, pants will be muddy, face will be red, I will sweat the small and the large stuff and yet tomorrow is another day. Rain in the forecast, who knows what my internal climate might be? Sunny with cloudy periods as usual I bet.

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Random..Where is my head at?

Its been summery, the leaves have popped, all is green. I have been unusually busy lately, I have not been able to ply my trade (if my trade is that of a writer, not a peddler of beers or flirter of girls). I find myself at a loss for words, I am lost in the plot, I have hit the wall. Life has not been mundane, I encounter interesting folks on a near daily basis, but it seems I have lost the ability to articulate. It might be more a matter of getting back on the horse, write to write, I may need to spit nouns, verbs etc, irregardless of meaning or style. To hell with the critics, or THE critic, the worst of them all being myself. Perfectionism is the bane of art..its sucks the soul, it steals words and ideas. I must plow through.



So the mission, giving the time and opportunity, is to carry on. Drop a note here and there. Not on weekly or bi-weekly intervals, daily, hell twice a day, maybe three times is the charm.. that or I strike out altogether.

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Funny these small towns...

It was 1:23 or so a.m. I was outside having my last cigarette of the night (bad bad bad, ya I know..this one was special, you will see), when I hear clop, clop and clop..a strange sound for that time of the night, Annapolis has a certain buzz at night, whether it be the refrigerators of the supermarkets or the street lights, but clop, clop and then clop?? I turn my head, what do I see?? That's the special, hold on I am getting there..dramatic effect..hold on, patience. I turn my head and wouldn't you know it 3 young deers are waking right down the yellow line on St. Anthony Street, they sense me, I may have coughed, sniffed or simply exhaled..maybe it was a wow, anyway it matters not, they froze for a moment, they sized me up, gave me the once over. They did not scatter, sure they had an extra spring in their step, their little tails were raised a bit, they were extra-sensory, but they went on their way, I put out my smoke, I went to bed happy, there is nothing like a close encounter with the planet's other inhabitants to replenish the soul. Godspeed my deers.

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Cough cough ... snort.

Egad, I have a killer spring cold. I am wiped out. The weather is as snotty as I am, I was under the impression the it was April showers, its May, come on Mother Nature help a fellow out. I need some sun, I need to sweat these germs away. Blah.



So I have decided that I need to write on a more regular interval. I have finished my journalism course, so, it goes without saying that it would be in my best interest to write as often as possible in order to keep my brain and fingers sharp.



This is not the appropriate venue to pop off on say current events, I have a political blog for that..this will be the place where my brain spills its beans, where all my excess brain plague will be placed.



More to come.......

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Haven't written for the shear joy of writing in awhile...

What with school, work and the spring fever, I have not had the time nor energy to write for kicks. I have completely abandoned this old blog-o-mine. For shame, I promise (not to be held to) to write some random musings on more regular intervals. A fella has to wax poetic from time to time..to purge the soul, to rhyme for the sake of rhyme.



Seems I am out of practice, the words as of yet, are not flowing..strange because you would think that now that spring has sprung that I would be filled with inspiration. To be continued....

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Blargh!!

The greyness, the hit you right in the bones frigidity of the Nova Scotia in April is testing my patience. I no longer want to worry if it may snow tonight, if I need a sweater, hell I am about done with pants all together. My spring fever is starting to ebb, to hell with spring, bring on summer already.

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