And an end to all that

These five hundred words get harder to write each day; surely I cannot be running out of things to say already? The problem is that I have too much to say; so much I have been carrying unsaid which now fights to be the first story to be released.

What I am certain of is that today is the time that there be an end to all that: all the distraction from what I don’t want to know any more.

I choose to write. I choose to write as more than just an outlet for my angst or my latent creativity, I choose to write because I am a writer and writing is what I do. But if I am to write, to do writing, then I must stop doing what I am not being. I am a writer, writers write. I am not anything else, so I shall no longer do nor seek those other things.

Better than focussing upon what I am not is attending to what I am. I enjoy writing and I shall do that, and let everything else fall away: it doesn’t matter what it is it matters only what it isn’t.

I know what I want to write about, but I wonder if it all comes across as a little self indulgent. My first foray into publishing under my own name was not as well received as my extensive work under pseudonym; but then I wrote those stories under very different circumstances. I shall rewrite Malcolm’s story as suggested by one of my critics, and I shall write in a better frame of mind and for a better purpose.

I also know what I don’t want to write about, so I shall indeed stop researching such things.

“A memory is never finished as long as you are alive”; well that’s the case according to Sunset Boulevard’s Jesse. Maybe only God has the capacity to forget entirely upon request, but I can choose not to remember. I am struggling; not only with the 500 word challenge, but also to move my writing beyond where it was most comfortable in 2007 because I can see that it was heading into a dead-end. Today I am trying to write about not writing about what I no longer wish to write about: a circuitous argument if ever there was one: not a lost cause, but a foolish endeavour, as foolish as the original endeavour had been. I don’t want to drop out of life and the world, I have things I need to be doing, but I am struggling today with pressures from all sides.

How can I run the race and win the prize if I can’t even get onto the blocks? Sometimes the race is not to the swift but to the persistent, I shall put it all down to experience.

Wake me up inside, call my name and save me from the nightmare I’ve become.

It ends now.