It used to flow so beautifully from betwixt my lips, but now that I am making a conscious effort to be a grown up, I'm finding it harder and harder to be the cooky and zany character I used to be. Mainly because I don't have the time.
I don't have the time to build blanket forts.
I don't have the time to draw funny pictures about french foxes or bananas having affairs or other such ridiculous notions.
I don't even have time to take pictures of things and photoshop them to look amazing and or stupid.
So I am left with this see of potential creativity swimming around in my brain with no tangible way to be released. I come up with these brilliant storylines and dialogue for novels I will never get the chance to write. Instead I put all my time into making money so I can move out and finishing uni so I can get a job to sustain my addiction to nerdy t-shirts.
So I am making a promise to myself. Not a promise like I did before when I promised I would write more blog posts. I got distracted by video games. And not like that promise I made last week to start doing situps so I can look like a supermodel. No. That just takes too much effort. And sounds exhausting.
What I promise is to write.
I have to competitions I intend to enter. It doesn't matter if I win them or not; even though winning them comes with a cash bonus and official evidence that I have skill in my profession. What really matters is that I made an effort. I grabbed hold of one of those slippery thought eels in my head and I managed to pull it out of my ear and put it on the paper. Thought bubbles do not describe the insanity that is swimming in my grey matter.
Because one day I don't want to be rummaging through my own things only to find all this cools stuff I used to do when I was a bored student. I don't want to say "I remember when I did this" I want to be saying "Wow, I used to be normal back then". Because if I'm still weird at the age of 54, then I know I've managed to keep the eels in my head happy and fed.
And I wasn't kidding about the pictures.