Lately I Can’t

Sit up straight

or

Concentrate on reading

or

Keep all my produce from going bad

or

Keep up with people

or

Save money

or

Tolerate the cat

or

Tolerate loud people

or

Care about the Red Sox (sorry [not])

or

Fall asleep before midnight

or

Wake up early on weekends

or

Work up the energy and confidence to wear heels

or

Write anything worthwhile

or

Find the time for passion

or

Stop thinking about cookies and pie.

 

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Not one for the books, this post…

Why can’t I just live like one of those lucky few, doing maybe a few blog posts a day, just getting paid for whatever thoughts I decide to put out in a short written form?

Maybe someday. (Not).

I found a list of writing prompts for the month of September. I forgot about it at first, so of course I’m already behind. When I have some time off later this week, I’m hoping I’ll be able to catch up. Of course, there’s no rule that I have to do all the prompts, but I was planning on it. Just to get some words out. Maybe I’ll even like one of my responses enough to post it.

Fingers crossed.

My mind is like a… something… that can’t hold onto ideas.

That should be clear enough.

If Only I Could

Well, first, I would stick an extra Saturday into this weekend, hoping it would give me time to really get things done. But I never use my time well, so it probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

I wish I could blast off into the sort of life I really want. Everyone tells you how hard life will be, but no one can ever seem to say it in a way that prepares you. No matter how well you think you know how it will go, you’re always underprepared.

I have dreams, man. So many dreams. The larger dreams of course have always been there, they don’t change. But sometimes other dreams pop up and they’re sticking. Some of them might not be possible, but others would be…

  • I want to have clear, perfect skin. I already drink plenty of water, but I suppose I could eat even more fresh fruits and vegetables… but yeah. I want to look in the mirror and see my face without constant, strategically placed blemishes.
  • I want to get a nice digital camera to take artsy pictures with. Not for doing real photography. That would require special lenses, and developing equipment, and all sorts of stuff that I don’t think I would be willing to invest in (at least, not any time soon). But if I could just take some good pictures, with a camera that works better than the crappy one in my phone, maybe I could show you what I see.
  • I want to actually sit down and read the Poets and Writers magazines that have stacked up since I started my subscription. I’ve rarely been really into reading magazines, so even though I’m really excited when they arrive, I tend to put them off to the side and then they don’t get read.

I would let it all go, and maybe I could walk into the sunset at the end of the movie, the big confrontation behind me, the bad guy defeated. Ever wonder, at the end of those movies, whether it really ends there and the cowboy can just go about his business in peace, or do you think another old western outlaw will show up before too long?

I would tell you. But I don’t like to think of what might happen…

 

If there was a crystal ball of some kind that could just give me some idea of where certain choices would lead, I would take a look. Sometimes not knowing has a paralyzing effect. I guess the devil you know… you know the rest. Or, rather, the adequacy you know, the good things about now, are not worth giving up for something that might leave you behind square one. Or something like that.

I feel as if I don’t know how to write anymore. I have too many thoughts, and none of them are properly distinguished from one another, so when I try to get them out, other ones come along with it, like trying to pull out a leaf and instead taking the whole vine. And asking for help? Please. Do you know me at all?