Wednesday, 19 September 2012

String Theory

I’ve not been living up to my Writer’s Creed from the very moment I penned it. That’s not a great start to being the best writer I can be. I landed a proper adult job that gets in the way of what was already a rather sporadic writing schedule and thus over the last five weeks or so my writing’s been a matter of strings – tiny little vibrations of ideas that would make up grand mindscapes if someone would make the effort to braid them together. I’ve had some moments of inspiration that I imagine could’ve turned out well if I’d taken the time to nurture them. My overall excuse is that I don’t have time, but that’s not true, all the weird other shit I get up to considered. I’m writing this on the bus home right now because this long trip right here is time that I can use for writing instead of looking out of the window for half an hour. Even though it's the first rain of Spring and the view is gorgeous.

‘…over the last five weeks or so my writing’s been a matter of strings – tiny little vibrations of ideas that would make up grand mindscapes if someone would make the effort to braid them together…’

Since my writing’s been reduced to the quantum level of strings and all things very small it’s best that I make plans to conquer the dimension that is Time first before moving back to Space. I’ve never been all that great with my Time management but that has to change if I’m to get all the things I need done out of the way, things like:

·         Work (sustaining engine of my life and all)
·         R.E.D. October (pretend you know what that is)
·         Reading (I've been reading Toll the Hounds forever!)
·         Writing
·         Gym
·         People (I need to cut down on people I don't like though, they're bad for my health or 

          something equally sinister) 
·         Family
·         Movies
·         Series
·         Gaming
·         Eating (a very pleasurable pass time this)

The rain outside is distracting me quite a lot – it's transforming the ugly CBD to something quite lovely. Anyway, Time, I'm addressing you personally now. No, don't try hide behind your impressive silver beard! This thing we've been doing you and I, it needs to have some sort of a structure that benefits us both, you know. Even if it's a floppy sort of structure, I don't mind, as long as we get through 24 hours of you and we can look back and nod satisfactorily that we didn't waste all that much of you staring at the ceiling, although, it must be said, it's a very beautiful ceiling.

I'm not sure how one goes about the whole setting up a schedule business so we'll need to find out how that's done and do it. Any ideas who we can consult? Or am I doing all the research again? For all your ticking and tocking you're a lazy bugger.

'No, don't try hide behind your impressive silver beard!'

(Aside... askance…? Askew…? That sort of thing. Nthabiseng said to talk to 5 and ask 5 to come sooner. Around about half past 4 will do. 
So, hi, 5, b3an_Champ here. Could we get that done please, the whole half past 4 business and all. Thanks. I'm busy working with your father to conquer him so you know, family friend and all that. Cool.)

Once I conquer Time I can focus on the dimensions of up and down, backwards and forwards, left and right and inside out.


Skip forward a week; add some days and nights and here I am in a hospital waiting room. My mom has a standing (more likely sleeping though) problem with her liver – failure and what not. She had an episode tonight and here we are. I'm scared a little but she seems okay right now. Since I'm here I decided to go over the ol' writing pad on my phone and saw this. I'm quite disappointed in myself. I let a whole week and some days and nights pass without doing much of this writing business save for two middling poems. Really? It takes a goddam hospital room to get me trying. That's just wrong. I want to do better than that, be better than that. I want to be my own muse.

That is all.

"Fool," said my Muse to me, "look in thy heart, and write." 


Anonymous said...

Glad you're writing again. I like it so much, especially the letters to God. They are very special.

Charles Siboto said...

Thank you.