Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life. |
I haven't been having great success with prompts lately. It seems like every time I write on a particular subject, a few days later, that subject comes up in a prompt in some challenge or contest. I can't even think how to begin. I wrote what I had to say already, I'm dry. But it's weird how this keeps happening. It is as if the creative mojo is being transferred from one writer to another from the website through the servers, over the internet and filling up all the little WiFi routers all over the world. It's the hive mind. It's like the Borg. Or it may be that I am making excuses for not having written a Haiku yet for the Promptly Poetry Challenge. I swear I have been thinking about nature for days. But try as I might, i have yet to come up with a new angle. I feel that I have emptied myself of all my feelings towards trees, autumn leaves, morning, night, dusk, sunrise, sunset, birds, etc. and, oh yeah... etc. You get the picture. It's dangerous to let me write when the usual subjects are exhausted It could get ugly in those 17 syllables. I have to go think about nature some more, or look at it. Maybe I will email David Attenborough. He may know of some cute chipmunk stories. |