A Mind Full of Stories
This year is already confounding me. There are shifts in my thinking and in my actions that I am yet to understand. I am looking at the ghosts of last years' ideas and wondering where they stand -- whether they are real, imagined or waiting to be shouted into existence. And all the while time is standing still ... it feels like the end of January in my mind, yet the calendar boldly tells me it is mid-month.
I have a mind full of stories and I am wandering between them all. In one corner is a half-imagined novel that I have dreamed of writing for years. For some reason it has taken a stronger shape now -- I have a location and a number of connected ideas. I even have the starting lines and a sense of where the first parts will go. I am interested, yet not driven to write this yet ... perhaps I am biding my time, or worse ... procrastinating.
There is another, in the corner to my right. This story is all shining lights and bright covers. It is a short piece I have been meaning to write for some time ... but something that I have also been avoiding. We stare at each other through a veil of promise. I think we may speak later this week -- even if our dalliance is only short term.
Over by the doorway I can see an old infatuation. She winks at me and turns away. For all the world I want to run past the peeling paintwork and draw her back into my orbit. But each time I take a step I am interrupted by thoughts, ideas and new obsessions. I kid myself that "one day" will be the day that things change. One day.
In the mirror I am always shocked by the face staring back at me. I look through the bright eyes, hold my hands up before my face and expect the smoothness of youth. There are many stories that we COULD tell ... but we often falter at the first paragraph. This year I plan to tell and experience a few dangerous stories. How about you? What have you got to tell?
