Skip to main content

Too much, too little cynicism

Today I feel like writing my novel or script to-be. The thing is when I lift my fingers unto the laptop it is then that my laziness comes crashing down like a turbulent aircraft waiting the inevitable. Earlier the bicycle died on me in the middle of trying to pump the wheels. Instead of resuscitating it I ended up flattening it. For no apparent reason it did the opposite purpose, making matters worse. It was devastating. I ended up walking five, probably six blocks. The bike was far from convenient to begin with. It was cheap, ugly and annoyingly rock-like, taking extra effort to pedal and move despite having a sort of mechanism that deals with that particular sort of problem. 

I am still disappointed with our household patriarch who is as time goes dragging on becoming more difficult to establish a formal relationship with. I guess none in this entire household is accessible to establish a formal relationship with. Does that make me the problem then?

Popular posts from this blog

Strange Fruit

I had recently adorned a vow of silence for myself with Miriam for no apparent reason whatsoever other than to suit my whim, and, regardless of the pettiness associated with this misdemeanour, I pray this will only strengthen us both in spirit for the coming days. The coming days are definitely not meant for one such as me.
In the next few hours, not shortly before I am done with this piece, this vow will be disavowed. Miriam is sleeping soundly in my right, broken by the exhaustion that seemed to catch her unaware. This was not what she had prepared for when coming to London. This was not what I meant for her when I asked her to come. In order to alleviate the guilt of me making it more difficult for us both, I do what it is that I do best, and that is to love her hungrily and wildly. And some little bit of swag on the side to cure her state of frustration albeit temporarily.
My days are long and yet wields very little. For now I do and take whatever I can, whenever I can. A grand f…

Snippet: In her darkest days, Elaine (worldbuilding), unfinished

Voices of strange busybodies could be heard on the other side of the edifice. Elaine reckoned she recognised one of them. An old friend. Perhaps not necessarily a friend, or not technically a friend. A friend is a rare commodity for her these days. She could walk right past them and not blink an eye, but Elaine waited for a little bit more until the lot toned down. Having a group of opposites around her, poking her skin through their eyes, meticulously making sure she was an enabler who to them an abundant source of entertainment, was all the reason needed to convince herself to back away from the complexity of it all. Home is an awful lot more awful than this place though, Elaine thought, as she gripped her handbag tightly, hoping the ray of darkness from the moon would envelope her and shield her from the attention of the lonesome trail.
"This would not have happened had you only listened to me, Elaine," complained Darco. "Half the people out there would skin us both…

Decide my fate for me

As though the wind may pass with golden steps from shallow graves, the warmth of her hands could not defeat January weather in England, proving that tests of fate weigh heavier than the insidious intentions of a warring tribe. Perhaps it is high time I engage in other methods more worthy of personal consideration. She left me in the cold when my reality cloaked in malady was in full motion, sweating icicles in the interior, punching my guts in gutsy ups and gutsy downs. She was my meaning. She is my void.