Meth: a Ticking Timebomb Gone Viral

Pondering the Possibilities

I don't think I am as talented as my port might indicate (read with a pinch of sarcasm). It's been almost three years since I joined WdC and in that time, I have posted two hundred and nineteen pieces (I would love to know the total word count). In my opinion, I'm not a novelist (that's a fact) and not much of a poet either. After three years, you would think I would fall naturally into some niche of what kind of writer I am. Licorish allsorts, anyone?

I know that unless I'm really sad or, on the other hand, extremely happy, my creative state of mind is as barren as a dessert. But, a dessert only looks barren. If you were to look below the hot dry sand, there are many things there you might not expect to find. And this is where I find myself most days, sitting with my laptop, and wondering what I can write that will hold someone's attention long enough for them to learn a little more about my life...the victories and challenges I face going from one day to the next.

This is the process I usually follow. Out on my ride, I try to multitask by staying alive AND pondering all that is going on in my head. I've found the best way to come up with something write-worthy is by simply coming up with a title and then flying by the seat of my pants (the latter I learned recently is something some writers and hopefully fewer pilots swear by). If it works, I can't see any reason to change it, and I suppose it may contribute towards a style.

There are times when I will revisit and revise the work on my port as a whole. I'm looking for grammar, punctuation, and presentation issues. I'm not sure about you, but sometimes I will come across a title and have no clue as to what it's about. Of course, once I open said story/poem/essay/quote, the light comes on and the memories return. But there are some items that leave me wondering...where the hell did that come from?

These pieces are, for want of a better explanation, glitches in the matrix that my other self must have written without me knowing. I have to concede that the other Neil is way more talented than I am. I heard an interview once with a singer/songwriter, and she mentioned that there are certain songs she wrote and she has no idea where they came from. Robert Plant said the same when he penned the lyrics to Stairway to Heaven...stating it was like his hand wrote the words without his control.

Before having a similar experience myself, I put it down to drug-induced psychosis or creating legend. That was until one afternoon when I sat reading words I had little memory of writing. It felt like one minute I had nothing, and the next, there was this poem that had me scratching my head. It's a profanity-laden piece about an asshole whose girlfriend left him (and for good reason I might add). It isn't nice or sweet and is definitely not a popular piece on my portfolio. But the thing is...I love it, and in my opinion, it's one of the best things 'I' have ever written.

"Don't Ask Me Why " 

Perhaps I should stop trying to promote a piece that most people (so far) hate (bar a few more discerning types). But I can't let go of the feeling that if I find the right audience (which is definitely not here at WdC, going by past experience), this satirical little story of a man who is out and out revolting, could become something of a hit (more likely here in Australia). And if it ever gets made into a song that goes viral, I will be glad to accept the undeserved exultation on behalf of Neil from another dimension.