fun&games

Seems it is the season for the weird, wacky and downright awesome in the name of competition.  Stuff the London Olympics and the Tour de France – I would much rather hear about the training regime of five time World Wife Carrying Championship competition winners Taisto Miettinen and Kristiina Haapanen, or how one decides on the art piece that will become their entry for the North American Beard and Moustache Championships!  But ultimately, I have got to get myself to Moscow next year for Glamour Magazine’s annual high-heels run…and I have already signed myself up as taste tester for the Diageo Reserve World Class Bartender of the Year competition – the perfect way to top off a world of fun and games.

xmuseandskipx   

  

Motivate.

Today the on screen sentences are disappearing faster than they are appearing as I cull last night’s ‘genius’ short story beginning from a stark looking word document. I must have dreamt that I had passed the 1,000 word mark…and dreamt that the words linked to make any sense, made any form, were tied to a central theme. It is 10am. My cup of tea is cold.

I flick back through an accumulation of post it notes scribbled on during breaks in slumber. Depressingly, they too seem to be disjointed, but I add them to the increasing glaring desktop document titled ‘WRITING INSPIRATION’. ‘Star anise’ is added along with ‘truss’ ‘viscid’ ‘mettle’ and ‘birr’. I add a reminder note to ‘make every sentence clear’ and ‘not get caught up in complicated description’. And then I begin to procrastinate.

There is a program that allows you to ban yourself from social media for a period of time. I should really Google that, find out the program I need to install, but not today. I scroll down the Facebook News Feed, clicking on high school ‘friends’ with fresh offspring, travel plans and Monday vices. Already bored of it, I am ALT TABing from Flikr to Tumblr, Pinterest to LinkedIn, Bloglovin to Gmail. I have to get out of the house...

xmuseandskipx

Timed. Tock.

She practices your in and out.  Whispers into your soothe.

Breathes in deep your dreaming.

She fears loss.  Ebbs by clinging in.  Clinging on.

Tangles about you in weathered worry.

She forgets your memories.  Stitches you in together depths.

Hollows vessels.  Pinches spirit.

She watches the trees grow winter.

Nestles in closer.  Feeds on hibernation.  Scratches at your bones.  
Until they become hers. 

Until she can’t separate.

Until you need her too.


xmuseandskipx