A Playful Misconception, A Childhood's Dream

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I begin this post with nothing in my mind. Almost a blank.

I have been uninspired, lazy, and unnecessarily busy at the same time. I haven’t written anything in a long while (to me at least).

Even longer when it comes to poetry. I have not submitted anything new to allpoetry.com and it’s starting to feel like an abandoned ship. I’ve tried to draw inspiration and muse over the daily competitions but, like always, if it’s forced, it usually comes out tacky and trite.

Nothing should be forced. Just like this post. Words come to me when there’s a strong urge, even if it’s nonsensical rambles. But they are still and always will be words.

Having ended somewhat abruptly as a proofreader from one newspaper company, I have found a same position in another newspaper. Work and environment here is much different, not that I’m expecting them to be the same. But the biggest difference as a proofreader is that the work here is few and far between. On a slow night, I may only read three pages before I call it a night.

Another difference is that there’s an easier access to a computer hooked up to the internet. So here I am. In the time-abundance workplace, I start this post.

I have some old friends here who knows a brief period of my past. A period where I thought my life was set in a course of direction, which of course then took a tight turn. Now an image of that path has been brought to me again and it’s like trying to get it out of my head all over again.

Hence, I am revisiting another period of my past, a time of bleakness. Imagination comes alive and eats at me once more. Remembrances attack my subconscious and leaves me battling for control. And all I can do is make empty wishes and curse my luck.

For a post that started out almost empty, I sure filled it up to the brim.