Daily Prompt

Oddly enough the word has a sort of significance in a sort of career I sort of have.

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But on a personal level I’m against the idea.

I don’t think we should be allowed to push the restart button. Life would be just too easy.

Imagine if you could always start over when things went pear-shaped. Imagine if every decision in life was reversible.

To be sure, we’ve all wished for such a button more than once over the years. Remember the day you paid a fortune for a new gadget only to find that an updated and vastly superior model was released the following morning? At half the price? And the guy next door who you secretly despise bought one? Remember the day you drove your car, at speed, between two poles just far enough apart to allow passage? Only to discover that they weren’t? Remember the day you talked your girlfriend into visiting a nude beach? And your father was there? Alone? Remember that time (different girlfriend) that you were both in bed and nobody had any clothes on and there was absolutely nothing that could possibly have gone wrong at that point? And then you said something about the cute little dimple on her bum?

Sure. We’ve all had those moments. And it might have been nice to erase them. But where would be the commitment? Decisions would not be decisions at all. They would be laboratory experiments.

And I know that the word ‘commitment’ is one rarely escaping from my lips. But, in principle anyway, I’m all for it.

I know, also, that people’s lives are invaded by tragedy, by joy, by disease, by good health, by loss, by gain and sometimes just by really shitty weather. But these are not restarts. They are turning points to which everything that came before has led.

Don’t turn around. Don’t go back. Just follow the path. It is your path. And it was always meant to be.

And this in response to Sara

Naked beauty, bedtime fun
Another notch etched in my gun
Vague regrets with morning sun
Baby, I have got to run

Of those regrets I have a few
It’s never what I meant to do
Remember that it’s me not you
I think that you already knew

The very nature of our fling
That I would dance and I would sing
That I would promise anything
Love, though, I would never bring

This in response to Laura’s suggested technique

Another life time ago I had a casual relationship with substances which transformed me into a genius. Such was the magnitude of this genius that it poured out onto the page like lava and my fingers burned late into the night with the effort of harnessing it and recording it so that, after a little editing, it could be shared with humanity and I might then assume my rightful position on the world stage amongst the other literary heavyweights.

The morning’s editing process invariably proved to be a little more complicated than the enthusiasm of the previous evening might have suggested. Quite aside from the fact that the handwriting was virtually indecipherable and the grammar non-existent the content itself was unintelligible. In this state of non-heightened sensitivity I could not recognise my own genius. It seemed unlikely that the world would either.

I tried doing things the other way around. I would write the usual rubbish with sober fingers during the day and then wait for the magic to arrive at night to extract the diamonds. This didn’t work either. For at night these pieces would transform themselves into works of art without even a touch. “Are you kidding?” I would ask myself when viewing them through the eyes of the genius, “This needs no editing. It is already fucking brilliant.” I could then sit in a comfy chair and watch re-runs of Gilligan’s Island. Or The Beverly Hillbillies. It turns out that they were comic masterpieces as well, and this observation may have provided further insight into the process.

I found myself chatting to William earlier today about times long ago and, at some point, reference was made to the words above. I recall few of the lyrics but realise, as more time passes, that they apply even more to me. A bit sad really ……

What I recall is….

Have to do something about these rock and roll scars

Got them standing too close to rock and roll stars

And they’re getting harder to hide

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And they are

I don’t know why I post this ….

Just a random confession

and trying to continue a regime of posting (almost) every day