I fear unfinished things. I know myself too well and have too much experience of things that have been begun, put aside for a moment and then never returned to. I move on too quickly. Generally, I must strike while the iron is hot or the moment passes and I no longer agree with myself. Although that is not entirely true. Some things take an age to write. But, with me, that is before I type a word; the thing, whatever it is, sits in my subconscious mind, maturing or festering, until one day it is ready to be written. Force it and I am done for - it will never be finished.
Listening to a pair of ladies sorting through a pile of old clothes to be given away. The cries go up, "Isn't that pretty? Are you sure this is to go?" "This is rather nice too."
Being of a contrary mind, I wonder immediately who designs the clothes that aren't pretty and why they do that. Wouldn't it make sense if they only made the pretty things and saved on all that effort and expense in making ugly or plain things? It really does seem a bit silly.
The problem with karma is that so few of us recognise it when it comes round. So rarely do our attitudes to an event change in the years before karma appears on our doorstep, that we are unable to see the connection of its arrival with that past event. The onlooker can see it, having stored a rather different view of the event in his memory, but his smug look as we stare karma in the face means nothing to us.
So the whole point of karma as a cautionary tale is wasted and I wonder why we bothered to invent the concept.
I have a secret weapon in my quest to become a halfway decent poet. Take a look at the 24 Syllable Contest. This little gem rubs all the rough edges off its poets, refines them and teaches the importance of brevity and precision. In very little time, it has developed me from a mere prose writer to something vaguely resembling a poet. If it can do that for me, imagine how good it could make you.
It’s fun, daily and educational. Take a look, enter the contest and become hooked. You won’t be sorry!
One reason for watching Mindhunter on the television is that they find really interesting songs to play as the credits run at the end. This morning they came up with a Police song that I've never heard before in spite of it being released in 1981. Both the music (Sting's inimitable bass) and the lyrics are seriously compelling and I don't know why. Here's the first verse:
I can dream up schemes when I'm sitting in my seat
I don't see any flaws till I get to my feet
I wish I never woke up this morning
Life was easy when it was boring
I wrote something today. At first, I thought I'd post it in this Newsfeed. It is, after all, good news about our purpose for being on this planet and I could be pardoned for wanting to share it with others. But then I thought, no, it would be better preserved in my portfolio where people would be able to benefit from it for years to come. So here it is (be not afraid - it's very short):
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(read it - it's wonderful) when a thought occurred to me. Why, I thought, do so many mythical creatures depend on their having at least partial resemblance to humans? We give a human a fish tail and call it a mermaid. Tack a horse's body on to a human and we have a centaur. And so on and so on.
But there are other animals that appear to be constructions of several unrelated animals. The platypus, for example. Are not these the mythical creatures of the animal kingdom? Except that they really exist. And, if such things can be in reality, why should not the creatures of our myths have been real at some time in the past? Or even the present (take a bow, Bigfoot).
If nothing else, this theory means that we can stop pretending that manatees resemble women with fish tails!