writing as a form of therapy

[WriterMelb]

@Mazarita @Faith-and-Hope @eth 

It is indeed a journey. My creative brain I don't believe I would have without the sufferering. Learning to smell the roses 🌹 on my journey is hard. It's happening though. I don't have the mania. Which is a good thing. The creative crazyness I've wondered what it would be like. Sometimes wondering if I'm missing out? I'm moving to the point where I will be able to write regularly. 

Do you do have a wide repertoire of creative things you do? I do but don't talk about it much because it's hard for people to relate. 

Thank you for your response regarding my flash fiction 'I Remember' It contains precious memories for me.

WriterMelb

[WriterMelb]

@Faith-and-Hope 

I am deeply saddened to hear of the recent events in your life. It's just horrid. No way to sugar coat it. Grief can be difficult to deal with. I'm sure you will get help if needed. 

my personal experience was dreadful and I've been working not handing on my problems to my kids if possible. I still have the deep pain of the loss of my father. It has however lost its sting and become further away. These days my loss sits more easily with me. I still have times of sadness triggered by events and memories. I can't read my written piece

'I Remember' aloud. It distresses me.

 Writer Melb

[WriterMelb]

@Mazarita 

I can relate to how you see darkness and light.

Inky malevolent blackness and searing painful white light.

WriterMelb

[Mazarita]

Borderlines drawn

like in old history.

This is our new 

history now.

Each to their own.

Each for the other.

All together,

together apart.

Fear like a dome.

Love under glass.

[Appleblossom]

Once a man bought a coconut

Round, brown, hard and hairy.

Three little children gathered and looked

Curious, alert, not contrary.

Trusting they watched their father.

What was he going to do?

He shook it and said there was milk inside,

His six year old thought it untrue.

She waited with eyes wide open

As he pierced the shell and shared the juice

Against dry wood, the white flesh shone

Hope rewarded, no need for excuse.

A memory from a squat just before we all went into care.  I do believe my parents did their honest best. 

@WriterMelbMy dad died of pneumonia when I was 11. It was unexpected.  Takes a long while to understand their presence and absence in our lives.

[WriterMelb]

We both have some great memories.

[Mazarita]

the mood changes daily

with the half daily news

yes

twice a day at least

there are new things

to adapt to

yes

this is happening

though I feel I 

might be walking

through a dream.

[Mazarita]

Wouldn't it be great

if the new world was

better than the one

that is closing down.

May it be so.

[Appleblossom]

It would.

@Mazarita 

[WriterMelb]

@Appleblossom @Silenus @Mazarita @Faith-and-Hope @eth 

My spouse is reviewing my short story final edit for the "Masters Short Story Competition'. Ive waited nine months for this, now I feel all might be for nought. I'm attempting to find out if there is anyone in their office to receive it.  

This is a big deal for me in my personal world that has shrunk so small. I feel embarrassed to raise this as we all face the daily possibly deadly threat of the virus. On their website the next competition deadline is listed for December. So maybe all is ok.

My social contact has been low over the last twelve months. Strangely my major social outside contact has been outpatients twice per week. As hospitals are considered an essential service the outpatient programs are going ahead as planned with no change anticipated  over the next three months. This is a blessing. Probably I shouldn't be worried about competitions. This is a reminder of how we cling to things that we think we value. But in the virus context al least for a short time what we hold precious becomes more focused and adjustments are made.

I still want to have my entry receipted when it is submitted thou. ☺️

WriterMelb