A Fleeting Happiness?

I certainly hope not. Hello readers. My rickety little ship seems to have found calm water and I have set a course out of the sea of despondency.

Perhaps some mental victory was won in the night? I definitely feel as though I was at war with something between the intermittent periods sleep that befell me. I have not been so restless in a long time. I lost count of the times I was expelled, half conscious, from a dream back into my room, before falling headfirst into another. It must have been partly due to the humidity last night, I remember waking at one point; thinking I was burning up and that all the bones in my arm had melted, leaving a limp appendage that flopped over the edge of the bed. I had obviously been laying on it, and made it go numb. A point I realised after a few minutes panicking as I desperately tried to straighten arm with my other hand. That made me laugh, and everybody else who happened to over hear my retelling of it.

As this point it occurs to me that you may misconstrue the comment about a ‘limp appendage flopping over the edge of the bed’ should that be the case, for shame!

We’ll have none of that here. Well – Okay, maybe a little!

Moving on, or rather back, to the crux of this entry. I need to make the most this calm spell, because it cannot last, the winds will pick up and waves of woe waylay me before I reach the safety of the shore.

At least I’m thinking straight; I seem to have lost my head a little in the last few days.

It’s times like this that I am glad I blog, sometimes it does inadvertently reveal more about me than I might care for. But I kind of like that, I generally sit down to write these entries late in the evening and type on impulse, not really editing until the following day (and then only to correct spelling mistakes and grammar). I find it interesting to see what I was thinking, and surprising at how much I forgot I thought.

If I could only apply the discipline and effort I put into this blog to my other, maybe one-day moneymaking, writing. I need a muse. I need somebody to kick me up the ass, to bounce ideas off; somebody to inspire me, perhaps without even realising. I need somebody to have late night discussions on the universe, on life, death. I have the urge to write again, typically it shows itself right at the point when I want to switch off and sleep.

I needn’t worry; I think it might be sticking around for a while. It seems as though now my thoughts are straightening out I’m finding myself with a whole host of ideas and am drawing inspiration from quite a wide range of sources. Perhaps I need to rethink my requirements in regards to a muse. Perhaps somebody to kick me into action will suffice.