I can feel them floating about in my mind whispering to me in the quite hours of the night when everyone else is asleep. Words and images thoughts desires dreams and nightmares, burning brightly behind my closed lids. Words that vanish and hideaway in the dark recesses of my mind when I sit down and try to write. Its not writers block, more shy thoughts hiding away from the possibility of being written.
I sit here with time free to devote to writing and everything that whispered in the back of my thoughts, all those voices that tease and laugh have fallen silent, their characters cannot be written, thoughts remain untamed unshared, alone in the darkness, imprisoned in my mind fearing the freedom of being written.
Enough of the waxing unlyrical, perhaps I've had too much coffee this morning. Or maybe just not enough. When ever I sit down with a little time to put fingers to keys, pen to paper it all just goes grey. The house is mostly clean, the boy is asleep, the kitten is purring in my lap and all the things I want to write are teasingly out of reach. A few slender strings to grasp but nothing to pull out into the open. I think I will go do some drawing instead and forget all about my good intentions to write something well I am in fact writing this but blogging wasn't what I meant. Though I have actually written more on this blog then I ever got on many failed attempts to write a diary or journal, Samuel Pepys I am not. http://www.pepysdiary.com/
I need chocolate.