Self analysis/criticism ramblings.....
TICK-TOCK-Watch the Clock
In the stillness of the night the room is dark and quiet, except for the ticking of the clock on the wall. It sounds so loud and I find myself counting the clicks that the second hand makes in the clock. I’m slightly annoyed at this. I want to sleep the night away, but it is not happening.
I can turn the TV on again. I can even go on the computer for a while. But I do neither. Instead I turn the light on and stare at everything in the bedroom especially the white round clock high up on the wall. Then I think of spirits and angels. I do silly things like ask one of them to use their powers to stop the clock, or at least to make it skip a few beats. I’ll stare and stare at the clock placing all my concentration to the task. Of course, nothing happens. The tick-tock sound of the inanimate clock on the wall is not the reason for my sleepliness. There are nights that I'm sound asleep within 10 minutes after my head meets the pillow.
Sometimes when I have a sleepless night, my mind wanders with thoughts of memories from the past and I write them down. I struggle for colorful words, but not many surface. That’s because I wasn’t exposed to fancy words. I hardly ever opened a book during my childhood or even into adulthood. Oh how I regret it. I truly believe that had I perused those wonderful books, those treasures of poetry, and marvellous novels, I would have absorbed all those words and it would reflect in my writings of today. I honestly believe this.
As a child I was able to easily memorize most anything put to me. Spelling came natural to me. But I was passive. For some reason, I didn’t like to read. When the teacher wanted a book report for the next day, I would go to the library and pick out a book and read the front and back of the cover. I would write about the story using my own words, and present the report to the teacher the following day. It amazed me that I received a high mark every time. Somehow, I know that the children of today cannot get away with anything like that. I know it was laziness on my part. Like many children, I didn’t like school. I was blinded to the fact that this natural talent should have been nurtured and expanded. I wasn’t anything special, because I was terrible in Geography and History, and barely got by with Mathematics. I was average in Biology, Science and Music only because those subjects held my interest. My grammar school report cards drastically showed my interest in those subjects by the good and bad marks that I received.
While in High School during my early teens, I had fun in Gym class. I was taking piano lessons and memorized all the songs that were given to me. I became popular with my classmates, because the teacher would let me play the piano for the whole period, and the students would dance with each other. On those days we got out of doing physical exercises, squatting and climbing ropes. Again, my grades were average and I got by.
Why I like to put words down on paper as I do today, I’m still pondering that fact. All my life, the only times I would write anything would be for school tasks, completing an application, paying bills and writing an occasional letter to family or friends. I never wrote a Valentine or any words of endearment to anyone special. What a waste of talent! Now that I am in my mature years, I no longer have the capability to memorize a prayer, a quote, a song or a poem. These days I sometimes cannot find my eyeglasses even though they are sitting on the top of my head. At least I can still put my thoughts down on paper as I do here on this great website, Writing.Com. Had I paid attention in school or heeded the advice of my teachers to read anything that I could lay my hands on, the results would show more in my writing. It could have stretched my imagination and I may have been able to write fiction and Sci-fi pieces, which I thoroughly enjoy reading now.
Realizing a dream at this stage of my life is out of reach, or at least a very difficult undertaking. If I were able to do it over again, I would make it a definite to read those books that I so carelessly tossed aside. The inspiration to be a great writer is to read as much of literary works that you can handle and hone whatever talent is inside of you to inspire and grow. In that way, you will share your talents with the world.