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

**************************************

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

This possibly requires explanation. A photo prompt from Lovely Curses came to me as a blank page. Due, I suppose, to the limitations of my phone. A technical glitch, in other words. But after reading Marquessa’s creative non-fiction I wondered if there might actually be another message hidden in there for me……

There was a beautiful girl there in the photograph.

Not perfect. Beautiful beyond perfection. A gap between her front teeth. And I wondered if she might look at those teeth in the mirror some nights and wish they were otherwise. But perfect teeth would have ruined the smile. A smile that, just for a moment, might help you forget about the world that you lived in.

But here’s the thing. The first time I looked there was nothing. A blank white moment in a frame. And somebody else said that black was never meant to be beautiful. And I wondered, for that moment, if I might still, sometimes, look at life through a lens.

And I was horrified.

Having posted nothing on here for some time I decided, in a rare display of self-discipline, that I should respond to the first prompt that I stumbled across today which was Here

I actually only bumped into it after being politically agitated by the Bag Lady’s comments on gun control Here …. so forgive me for the tired political angle.

I determined that I should allow myself only 5 minutes (the light is fading – it has become necessary to live my remaining days on the planet in flash) and post it regardless.

Which I am already regretting.

The result is unsurprisingly awful.

Big boats, baby
An Antarctic navy
The whole thing they say scientific
Small men with spears
Of high seas no fears
As they cheerfully rape the Pacific

Whale meat, baby
Have you tasted it, maybe?
In Tokyo they say it’s delicious
Though whales don’t explore
Round Japan no more
I’m beginning to find it suspicious