There was a time when I could sit a the keyboard and just “write”. Press keys. Most of the time the words appearing on the screen would amount to no more than perhaps the cat might manage, but now and again the laws of probability would kick in like so many monkeys, and create such brilliance mediocrity that others were astounded mildly impressed.
Somewhere along the line I’ve lost my way. Where an amount of effort would have been deployed in times past to conjure inviting scenes and enthrallingreminiscences, I now find myself settling for whatever occurs. Something rather than nothing - a bit like the words you are reading now I suppose. If a report card was being written by a school teacher, it would no doubt be suffixed with “must try harder”, or even worse, “see me”.
Last night was an opportunity to do something. To spend time crafting something. Do you know what I did? Nothing.
Actually, “nothing” isn’t entirely true. I began reading blogs - really reading them - not just clicking the “like” button as so many others seem to. While I read about the glass artist in Oregon, the single girl in Canada, and the disgruntled developer in San Francisco, the clock ticked onwards, and the children who had waged war above throughout the evening lost their fight against the dying of the light (not before I issued threats and recriminations more than once).
I continued reading late into the night - following people, writing comments, and replying to replies. Midnight passed, and the silly game of extending the day began; where inviting the early hours avoids the arrival of tomorrow.
At 7am the radio alarm clock erupted with inane conversation, and tomorrow arrived. Last night though; last night had been good - a reminder of old times spent in the company of far flung strangers, sharing the dead of night.