“Where it’s out of reach and it’s in the dark”


How you doing? This week has been a bit up and down. Lurching at work from crisis to quiet spot in as many hours. While some say that you should leave home life at the door of work (something I don’t subscribe to), it’s equally hard to leave work just at the office when you come home. If you’re fried from work, your fried from work. Luckily, it is now the weekend and so thoughts of reports, emergency project meetings and system builds can be locked away with the work laptop, put aside until Monday morning. 🙂

My ability to blog – such that it is – varies based on how tired I am. I read recently that “there is no more sombre enemy of good art than the pram in the hall.” Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that this blog is art. If I had a picture of half a shark or a pile of bricks, maybe, but my musings? No. The sentiment remains the same for me although it’s not the pram. It’s the fog – and I can only describe the feeling as that – where creative thoughts cannot penetrate. Right now, I’m coming out of the foggy tunnel I’ve been in since around 3pm today.

My creativity is beginning to return. Just as well considering one of my main hobbys is forum-based roleplaying. (Ed: Living in a fantasy world? Shurely shome mishtake?). Ahh, now I’m reaching for the backspace key. Why is this? The feeling that I’ve revealed too much of who I am or the feeling that my hobby is nerdy? More of the former than the latter I feel. I run games on the forum (normally sci-fi or modern) and although there are dice throwers (for those who like that sort of thing) the games I enjoy the most are now more group story telling than anything else. Should you be curious, no, they don’t suspect any link between this ‘life’ and my real one. 🙂

Funny, I’ve just belted out a few paragraphs and on the way home my mind was pretty much blank as to what I was going to talk (write?) about. Clearly a cup of tea and reading a bedtime story was just what the doctor ordered. 🙂 Talking of doctors, there’s an interesting article about blogging and beating the blues. Perhaps I should have written about that! 🙂 Just time for a music reference and we’re sorted. The weekend can begin!

Take care,

[ Today’s lyric: Faith No More’s Falling to Pieces ]


  1. I can’t really explain why, but I felt rather touch by this post. I keep persuing some ideal state of consciousness where each moment woulf be free of the past one and free of expectations for the one to come. Life isn’t conducive to that though. The waves aren’t separte to the time, the time isn’t separate from the sea.
    The ability to creatively find an expression of new meanings (maybe “art”) seems to be important. Would it be as important if I saw those same meanings within each moment? I still haven’y figured out even a good guess to answer that one. 🙂

    Play seems as meaningful a solution as any other. Sometimes I think its the only really appropriate one at times.

    Have a good weekend Lynn. 🙂

  2. I can relate – sometimes all I feel like doing after work is aimlessly browsing the Internet. I think it’s the act of creation, though, that makes blogging so rewarding.
    I’m no Shakespeare (insert joke about most crossdressers being straight as opposed to Shakespeare not being so straight), but somehow the act of creating, writing words that others will see uplifts me. As if I have contributed something to this world.


  3. Emma > I feel that the past must be there to give us reference; links and thoughts to where we are now so we can savour the moment. I’m glad you found something useful in the post.

    Vanessa > Surfing the Net is like surfing the TV, you search for disconnection: switching off from the real world and just letting the medium entertain you. Sometimes, it’s good to just let go. Let hobbies lie, put the telephone on silent and just relax… be that with a partner, a book, your blog or a film.

    Shakespeare not so straight…

    Now I am curious! Clearly you know something about the Bard I don’t! I shall be looking at MacBeth – sorry, ‘The Scottish Play’ [wink] in a whole new light.

    Lady Mac > My hands are of your colour; but I shame / To wear a heart so white

    Mac (muttering) > I wish I knew how to quit you…

    Lady Mac > What didst thoust say? Doth thou reference the hunting trip / betwix you and Banquo? Nought fish did I see / Your hooks unsullied / Your twine unwrapped. No carp upon the table dropped.

    Mac > F***. Busted.


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