Just do it
February 6th 2007 02:25
Just do it!
That’s what I tell myself. Just do it. I know I should, but there are always reasons I can’t. So I sit here and tell myself to just do it.
I have been very busy though. I have applied for a job I would like to have. I’ve been painting the house, have to worry about getting the car repaired, had to see people about some solar power. . .
No just do it.
Writing is a bitch at times. It seems that my muse is in the Bahamas with some guy she met at a party I wasn’t invited to. You know the kind of party I mean. Yeah, one of those parties.
At least I don’t remember being invited. But then, I have been to those kind parties before. I know I have because people have told me I was having a great time.
Just do it!
Come to think of it, I don’t really remember those other parties all that well either.
Just do IT!
Sometimes your mind just refuses to participate after. . . after. . .
It totally failed to rain again this morning. We had the same weather yesterday as well.
. . . after serious (drug of your choice) abuse.
Just DO IT!
I know I’m rambling on a bit here, but, well, you see, there’s something I have to do.
JUST DO IT!
Yeah, yeah. I’m going, I’m going, get off my back.
You see folks, I have a character who is being a bit of a problem. He’s not co-operating. But I think I have him sorted out now. Nothing like a bit of freewheeling to solve a character malfunction.
This character is supposed to appear in five novels, spanning perhaps a thousand years. He may not be quite sane. He’s the bearded man. Here is a sample of this character.
‘Watchya doing goose?’
He nearly jumped out the window, the voice was right behind him.
‘Calling the gods. Are you one of them?’
‘Nah. Ain’t no gods no more, goose. They all shot through years ago when the property market collapsed.’
‘What!,’ the boy said as he turned to see who he was talking to. A short, not very clean, grey bearded, man in a loin cloth. His hair and beard looked like an explosion in a fairy floss factory.
‘Thez gone, vamoosed, no longer here.’
‘But I heard them. They talked to me on the priests path.’
‘What. . . oh, came through the valley of sad echos didja. Don’t they teach the chosen boys nuthin at all no more, goose?’
‘How did you know I was the chosen boy? And why do you keep calling me goose?
‘Seen ya round. And besides old Rupert wouldn’a come his self on accounta him not liken high places. And ya said ya wuz a goose, heard ya m’self.
‘Wait a minute, who’s Rupert? And how did you get up here?’
‘ Got m’self legs giz like you. Howdj’a get here?’
‘I came up the stairs. Who’s Rupert.’
‘Well, there ya are then. Ain’t so hard to get here tis it.’
‘But the stairs aren’t there now. And you weren’t here when I got here.’
‘Howdj’a know I twern’t here then. Didj’a see me not being here? Eh, didj’a?’
Well, got to go. Have to finish the chapter before I go to bed.
That’s what I tell myself. Just do it. I know I should, but there are always reasons I can’t. So I sit here and tell myself to just do it.
I have been very busy though. I have applied for a job I would like to have. I’ve been painting the house, have to worry about getting the car repaired, had to see people about some solar power. . .
No just do it.
Writing is a bitch at times. It seems that my muse is in the Bahamas with some guy she met at a party I wasn’t invited to. You know the kind of party I mean. Yeah, one of those parties.
At least I don’t remember being invited. But then, I have been to those kind parties before. I know I have because people have told me I was having a great time.
Just do it!
Come to think of it, I don’t really remember those other parties all that well either.
Just do IT!
Sometimes your mind just refuses to participate after. . . after. . .
It totally failed to rain again this morning. We had the same weather yesterday as well.
. . . after serious (drug of your choice) abuse.
Just DO IT!
I know I’m rambling on a bit here, but, well, you see, there’s something I have to do.
JUST DO IT!
Yeah, yeah. I’m going, I’m going, get off my back.
You see folks, I have a character who is being a bit of a problem. He’s not co-operating. But I think I have him sorted out now. Nothing like a bit of freewheeling to solve a character malfunction.
This character is supposed to appear in five novels, spanning perhaps a thousand years. He may not be quite sane. He’s the bearded man. Here is a sample of this character.
‘Watchya doing goose?’
He nearly jumped out the window, the voice was right behind him.
‘Calling the gods. Are you one of them?’
‘Nah. Ain’t no gods no more, goose. They all shot through years ago when the property market collapsed.’
‘What!,’ the boy said as he turned to see who he was talking to. A short, not very clean, grey bearded, man in a loin cloth. His hair and beard looked like an explosion in a fairy floss factory.
‘Thez gone, vamoosed, no longer here.’
‘But I heard them. They talked to me on the priests path.’
‘What. . . oh, came through the valley of sad echos didja. Don’t they teach the chosen boys nuthin at all no more, goose?’
‘How did you know I was the chosen boy? And why do you keep calling me goose?
‘Seen ya round. And besides old Rupert wouldn’a come his self on accounta him not liken high places. And ya said ya wuz a goose, heard ya m’self.
‘Wait a minute, who’s Rupert? And how did you get up here?’
‘ Got m’self legs giz like you. Howdj’a get here?’
‘I came up the stairs. Who’s Rupert.’
‘Well, there ya are then. Ain’t so hard to get here tis it.’
‘But the stairs aren’t there now. And you weren’t here when I got here.’
‘Howdj’a know I twern’t here then. Didj’a see me not being here? Eh, didj’a?’
Well, got to go. Have to finish the chapter before I go to bed.
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Comment by Lily
Ars Poetica
For some reason, this reminded of The Faraway Tree, where they look back and they can't get back to the tree... just where my mind went.
He didn't call himself a goose did he? do tell whatcha be meanin' kind sir...and who is Rupert? aah the questions on everyone's lips....
love 'the valley of sad echoes'
you are a pleasure to read George, look forward to hearing more...thanks for the freewheelin' lesson, and good luck with the malfunction...
write on...
~Lily
Comment by Bullamakanka
Hughie's Ziff
Bagman's Gazette
Ah, so you want to know the secrets of Helengon.
Perhaps, perhaps.
Comment by Lily
Ars Poetica
~Lily
Comment by Tracy
Movies and Life
Yes, sometimes I need a big kick up the bum 'to just do it'....I can relate.
Tracy
Comment by Mrs M
Mum's Word
I need a drink.
Love & stuff
Mrs M