(it’s really good)
Gosh, I’m writing this late on that day of this month.
I’m starting to wonder why I write these, or at least why I began them – no, I know why I did that, to try and get some order involved with my writing, a routine and all that. Honestly, it’s a struggle keeping up with them when I don’t have much to talk about. Then again, I always think or write that and continue to ramble for two more pages.
They say we should kill our darlings, but who do you kill when it’s autobiographic or a blog? Do you just hack off paragraphs and sentences to limit the word count or to get rid of what a reader won’t be interested in? How do we decide that though? What interests Bob might not interest Sally, and vice versa ergo etc. I just wanted to write ergo.
What are you all interested in?
I’m guessing you all like writing or photography or both, and cooking. Thanks, by the way, Ward, for making me hungry every time you post. It was hard enough scrolling through the other blogs and now you’re doing it too! I’d get in on this food posting but I honestly can’t cook good food. I’ve tried to on a number of occasions but hey ho it’s a life of pot noodles for me!
But what else interests you? Victorian post mortem photography? Local urban legends? Ghost shows where the ghosts always seem to scratch people? Liquorice?
I’ve been trying to think about what I like lately, actually like. I know a while ago I thought about this and my conclusion was that I like outdoor taps. I don’t know what it is about them and I’m not sure if I’ve already written this because I tend to think about something, think I might mention that, and then forget. Anyway, outdoor taps are just really cool, okay? Maybe it’s because they remind me of the beach where you’d find them to wash all the sand off from your feet. Maybe it’s just to twinkle of their nozzle! Is it called a nozzle? That thing, oh wait, ha, it’s called a tap isn’t it!
I wonder if that says more about me than the usual list. Hi, I like books (I think, although I don’t read as often as I should), video games (I haven’t completed anything in a long time), writing (I hate writing), music (I only know a few musicians and songs and I listen to them on repeat), and animals (what? I really do like animals). I guess I just don’t know what I really like anymore. I know depression can strip you from yourself like some weird version of Pyramid Head, so maybe it’s just that.
I did find one of my favourite t-shirts the other day, which probably started the above thought process.
Oh, I really, really like Alien. Xenomorphs are incredible. I mean I think I like the Alien films, it’s been ages.
The above photos were last year and I’m still alive so I think xenos are just misunderstood.
What if I don’t like them anymore? Why do our tastes just change like that? Is it a mix of everything, society, culture, what we’re being told is cool and we should like right now. Should we use the word cool? Is that okay? Am I a social outcast for using an outdated word? Screw it, it’s bodacious baby! No idea what that word means. What? At least I’m honest! Sometimes.
I don’t know where I’m going with this. So far I’ve decided I want to write a post on routines, a post on writing for an audience and a post on witchcraft. The latter made sense earlier I swear but now it’s been shuffled to the side by the other things.
I think I’m distracted. Or, I’m distracting myself. I said in my last black and white photo I’d explain why I was late posting and I think in a round-about way all that faff up there was me trying to get to it. I’ve written and deleted something four times now (it wasn’t really four, but you know how I feel about that number and I need luck).
I posted a while ago about my little ferret Seb, and how she was sick and then I got the all clear. Yesterday she collapsed, a number of times. I took her to an emergency vet and he suspects a heart condition. I feel like I’m on an emotional rollercoaster. I’m irritated I was given the all clear, angry I don’t feel like I was taken seriously by the first vet, but most prevalent is the feeling of not being able to do anything.
I need to keep her rested and quiet, she was given an injection that lasts 48 hours and then it’s back to the vet in the morning. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good surgery, I’m just frustrated. And scared, really, really, scared.
I’m sure there are many of you who understand the bond you develop with a pet. I know I had well wishes from you when I first mentioned Seb was sick. So I’m sure you’ll understand how difficult it is to be in this situation. Maybe one day I’ll explain why Seb is so important to me, I’m sure I will. For myself and for her, and for Kimble who I lost last year, if for anything. I’ve got to say (and this is not aimed at anyone here, but after seeing something posted on Instagram – not to me) I really don’t give a toss what someone thinks of me for being so upset about Seb being unwell. To me, she will never be just a ferret. She’s Seb. She’s my little hoarder of all things squeaky; my terror-tot thief of empty plastic bottles that I find stashed under couches, drawers, my bed; she’s the dook happy critter that ran wild around the house on her own, with Kimble, with me, springing up and down and leaping at my feet. She and Kimble were also the only things that kept me going for a long time.
I wasn’t intending to write all that just then. It felt necessary though. My ferrets are my darlings and they will live on and on in my life’s story. They’ll also live on in my fiction – you’re yet to meet the fanganhoardens.
I should cut this short here. For one I’m getting emotional when I don’t have a definitive answer, and two, Seb wants my attention.
I’m going to get back to posting prompts next week and honestly, I might start writing more posts like this but on thoughts when I have them. I often think of something I want to post but then “oh, it’s not Sunday” I don’t know why I got it in my head that it mattered!
Anyway, shush times, so, as always, I hope you’re all well!
Bye bye for now and dook dook from Seb!
P.P.S … never mind, forgot what I was going to say.