Monday, 5 November 2012
Specifically, Dear Words in my Head.
Why do you have to fly around like confetti at a wedding making no sense to me or to my fingers which are trying to interpret you into something sensible and logical that could be called a sentence?
Why are there so many of you tumbling like leaves in the autumn wind? I don't have an enormous vocabulary so how is it possible that so many of you exist? Unless you are secretly cloning yourselves up there, conspiring to further confuse me.
Occasionally you hint at something that could be useful, like a to-do list, a blog post or a multi-million pound best selling novel that is just crying out to be made into a box-office hit. I know they are all hiding in there, particularly the to-do list which, unless it can escape and metamorphosise into the written word, will stretch and grow and twist and knot itself to the point it makes me rather ill (in the stressed out kind of sense).
Meanwhile, I grasp at the few moments in my day which are uninterrupted by children's demands, and try to purge my brain of a few words that may make someone smile, or nod sagely in understanding. My brain struggles for air as it drowns in literary flotsam and I manage to cough up a tweet. It is however not worthy of a reply or retweet. It is just a belch of words that are commonplace and unremarkable save for their indelible mark on the web.
I really need to find some space where I can set some of you free, make your own way into the world and release the pressure that is mounting. Because the pressure is mounting, and if I can't find the release valve there will be an almighty alphabetti spagetti inspired blog post flying across my readers screens.
Or is this already it?
Yours desperately trying to clear some head space so if you could just sort yourselves out into a semblance of order that would be great,