Image result for coloured chalk smudges fireworksPardon? It’s all a dream nothing tangible. Faded and pale, smudged edges, smoked lines. Coloured pinpricks like chalk pastel dusting sparkle through the fog making the haze more haze by its very difference. Like before when the world stopped turning. Back then, though, it fired up once more. Will it do the same? Will history echo the future? I cannot say and merely wait to catch it.

(This made perfect sense last night when it wrote itself)


This isn’t a self pitying piece, or one that anyone needs to worry about – it’s just me, my words, and an exercise in catharsis. How much stress can one take before breaking point is reached? And what happens when it is?

I’m not sure why today, why now in particular, but that feeling of sick dread is at full power.  I felt it tingling on the corners yesterday, peering around, but today it is standing in full sun. Nothing is loosening its hold. Mindfulness, my go-to release, has gone-too, and although the birds are singing joyfully, and the bees just waking from their nights slumbering, I cannot shake it.

I feel scared, anxious, sick and shaky. But still my infuriatingly analytical mind tries to Image result for anxietymake sense – what is different today than yesterday, the day before, a month ago?

I laugh, show interest and sympathy when I should, I make coffee and fuss the dogs; tug-of-war and football are just about within my capabilities, but shouting at me, giving me no peace, is the anxiety. Big, cloudy black and stabby – it’s there!

My desk, my keyboard and my words are my padded cell – if I’m writing, I’m not killing. The words trickle from my fingers, showing stark black on a white screen, can’t argue with black on white. Can’t fight the lines and curves, they need me to be and I need them to be true. Words only exist with us, but who owns who?



Why Write?

Is it that we have too much to say? Writers are no wiser than anyone else; we cannot write better [sic] or more thought provokingly than anyone else. Most of us, myself included, fell into being published, almost by accident. Many of us rely on auto correct, Image result for writerthe little wavy green line that mocks our grammatical errors, and the freely donated inspiration of good coffee!

Maybe we just want people to know the real us without coldly stripping off while they watch. This way it’s like a peeping tom, peering through muslin covered windows, while we show a blurred, softened outline of our thoughts.

The drive to write, to create images and acquire agreements, is strong, and maybe that is the only difference between someone who doesn’t care about writing, someone who wants to be a writer, and someone who is a writer.

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What the Duck?

Image result for duck‘Steady’ and ‘Please’ – the two most misunderstood words by malamutes on a determined duck hunt. Just to be clear, the duck wasn’t determined – keen to get a move on, admittedly, not impressed – most certainly, but not really determined. The beasts, however, were – very! Me? I’ve had any lingering determination ripped out of me over my malamute ‘owning’ years. Although, seriously, one never owns malamutes – one serves them, builds their life around them, and is ultimately broken by them. Ho hum – coffee time!


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 ‘Relief image’ – seriously Google?

No one but a fellow sufferer knows the sheer relief of submitting (yes, I know – I don’t do submission lol) that essay that’s been inside your every thought since you begged your tutor for the second extension. Yes, there are still a couple of assignments to go – including the big end of level nasty, before the summer break, but obviously I will be highly motivated, organised and ahead of the game for my next one. Honestly, that is my heartfelt intention; it really is, just like it was last time, and the time before that.

But, for today, the relief is palpable; the beasts had an extra long slog through the mud, the housework was done with Mary Poppins efficiency and cheerfulness, admittedly whilst industrial metal tinkled away in my ears, and my poor beleaguered laptop has been restarted, virus checked and CC cleaned.

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Ready to open that book? Just one more coffee? Don’t mind if I do ……….Image result for large coffee woman