Thoughts

People always tell you to 'write what you know' and it's incredible how many great works of literature have been influenced by the author's background and experiences. I struggle to write prose and I think it's that Dorian Grey argument, sometimes you can't share things that have too much of yourself in them, sometimes art is the outlet for which one can best represent oneself.

It's then interesting to consider why somebody wouldn't want to share that, why we're not all Walt Whitmans - celebrating ourselves, our lives and our achievements, Writers in general are either egoists or painfully introspective and analytical, which makes perfect sense when you consider the complex nature of some of the thoughts and emotions that they inject into their characters. How would suspension of disbelief prove possible if those thoughts and emotions had not been experienced first-hand?

The nature of the craftsmanship of literature is something that shouldn't be overlooked, it's so easy to become immersed in a story that flows so seamlessly and appears to have been condensed in a single moment of inspiration. Honestly, there's so much painful re-drafting that goes on and nobody no matter how skilled they are, can write flawlessly first time. Hours of time, hundreds of cups of coffee and reams of paper goes in to writing a book worthy of publication. Sometimes the finished product isn't the part that deserves the most appreciation.

2 minute writing exercise - 9:48pm

We weren't prepared for when Adonis would fall

And black ice would encumber every journey

When our apex sighed into itself

And tried to curl around a wisp of smoke

Left to smoulder in the empty fruit bowl

Of our golden kitchen-top heydays

Thoughts for Today

I'm muddling my way through today. It's funny how the best news can bring the greatest worries. I've had a week full of celebration and lucky escapes but now I'm numb with the prominence of it all. It's a different kind of numbness from how I felt when I first found out, it's hollow and is easily provoked.

I've been granted an opportunity of a lifetime but there's an ache inside me that feels it was undeserved. There's an erosion of the self-confidence that finding out initially filled me with. I'm reeling with "what if's" and my heart has sunk to the depths of my stomach, which incidentally refuses to keep still.

There is so much to be thankful for, but unfortunately also so much to worry about. So much, that all I can do is lay in bed with a restless mind and hope that sleep will come softly and quickly.