not even fit to be called a ramble

I keeping writing and deleting posts and so this is the one I’m going to stick with whether it’s rubbish or not I’m going to continue writing it and I’m going to post it. Deep breath needed after that.

I don’t have it in me today to write anything. My head is a mess, maybe from this cough syrup, I don’t know. I know they can do that but I don’t know if it is that. I just know words ain’t wording right. I’ve looked at prompts but nothing has come to mind other than the prompt itself or an image of the word in my head. As though my brain is learning words through pictures like I’m a kid again.

I used to have this little computer type thing and I think a clown or something taught me words and numbers. My parents mostly taught me, and my teachers, but I like to give that clown its fair shout. Although thinking back on it now it might not have been a clown.

I forgot it was April fools day even though throughout the day I kept remembering. It was that kind of fleeting memory moment though, where it comes to mind and then drops through the sieve back out again. I don’t mind much, I doubt I’d have done anything for April fools anyway. I like jokes, I’m just no good at pranks and I live on the sofa right now.

It’s my devil couch and I won’t give it up, no!

Although this was a fun april fools treat. I wish it were real though!


This post isn’t going anywhere. Even my rambles have some kind of structure. This is just typing for typings sake. I hope you forgive me for that. It’s just, I’m at the point in habit building where if I don’t perform the habit then I feel angsty and I don’t want to give up on this writing every day and posting every day too thing. So, I’m sorry about this. I wonder if I went straight from habit to unhealthy addiction.

You know, I’m just going to leave this here. Fergus the cat has come and plopped himself over my stomach, blocking most of my view of the laptop (he has very large ears) and so I think I need to listen to him and stop writing.

I got thinking about that clown that might not be a clown again and I remembered a book I used to read. At the end was a picture of a little girl in bed with her toys on the floor scattered around and some tissues there too. I think of that picture every once in a while. When I was little it used to comfort me for some reason, maybe I was evil and liked other little girls to be sick… no, it wasn’t that. I think it was the colour scheme. I also feel sad sometimes because I doubt I’ll ever see that picture again. Funny that.

Okay short ramble over. Rambles have been rambled.

Because this is utter shite and I believe laughter, although maybe not the best medicine, is a pretty good one, here is another comedy video from one of my favourite comedians about one of my favourite genres (horror):


Hope you’re all well!

Arbie X


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