Once, I stood on the top of a mountain and looked. I saw the sun setting, I saw the blue and pink sky, I saw lights fighting their way against the colours, I saw cars whipping past, people going about their lives. What didn't I see? The confusion. I didn't see the confused people, struggling. That's something none of us see, or choose not to see.
Once, I sat at my desk and looked out of the window. It was night and there were lights. I didn't see much but I thought about much. I thought about what makes good stories and good novels. I thought about what wins awards and wins prizes. I thought about what it means to love and be loved.
My mind, as of late and as of current, thinks about food, alcohol, writing, books, the future and love. I'm sure some of these things fall into the same categories and others just stand alone. Alone. Something all of us feel but never really are.
What a random post, you think. What is this? An attempt at a poem? No. This is me sitting in my living room, against the twinkling Christmas tree, listening to Admiral Fallow and thinking how I shall, in the new year, continue with this blog, my neglected, abused blog that contains my thoughts, my experiences, my dreams and my imagination.
The weird and wonderful world of it.
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