Friday, 29 August 2014

Some Nuggets of my Writing

So today marks day thirty of the ‘write every day’ challenge’ – It’s been an interesting one, with a lot of ups and downs. It’s the challenge that I’ve ‘failed’ on the most so far, in the fact that there were five days over the month where I didn’t write at all. However, there’s no use dwelling on that. I have very nearly filled an entire notebook full of scribblings, and I am now, for the first time, reading them. When I come across a line/extract/passage I like – I shall write it down unedited on here and share the love. Here it goes…

Day One              

So I took a step into the terrifyingly unknown
And waved goodbye to the comfort of your embrace
And I found
I could breathe
And the air tastes sweet
(poem)

The most depressing thing
About birds held in captivity
Is that when the doors of the cage are opened
They still don’t fly away
(poem)

Day Three          

Just imagine where you’ll be
Tomorrow
When the world is moving almost at the speed of light
It’s a wonder sometimes
We don’t fall off into the night
(song)

Day Four              

I am paralyzed by darkness
(poem)

Day Six

How is it that we can blame the uneducated for their own lack of education
Call people lazy and make them responsible for their own motivation
‘You’re Scum’ because we failed to help you find a vocation
When did we become such a cannibalistic nation?
We feed off of each other’s misery
And regurgitate it into hatred
(spoken word)

Day Nine

I see that you have found the one
Who fits you so completely
That if you were to part
You would realise
You are not whole anymore
You both take and you give
And that exchange has been rooted
And has spread its roots
Into the hearts of those around you
(poem)

And that the footprints that you leave
In the memories of others
Tell a story as beautiful as you
(poem)

Thoughts that are like diamonds
Scatter through the wind
(poem)

Day Thirteen

Chemicals strip you down
To your bare bones
Your heart, stomach and head
Feel like stone
And acidity
Murky and sharp
You wade through the dark
You sleep, waiting for the light
To wake you up
(poem)

Into the woods we go, your hand in mine
And I feel so elated by your touch
That all my secrets spill and stain like wine
(poem – sonnet style)

Day Fourteen

When your head is full of dirt and grime it is hard to find the will power to wade through it all to find that one shiny penny you knew was there.
(passage)

Day Sixteen       

All of my problems are reduced to specks of dust
Which swirl into the tornado that is the human experience
(poem)

She who winds up the clock
Stops the ticking
(poem)

Looking out on this beautiful day, Enra felt something stir inside of her. It started in her chest, and shivered through her entire body before settling inbetween her shoulder blades. It ached slightly, in that satisfying way your muscles ache when you stretch them out in the morning. She wriggled her shoulders, but the sensation lingered. Something bubbled under her skin. She tried to look round but the tingling lay in the exact spot she could not see no matter how she twisted and turned. She felt the rippling again, something swelling, stretching the skin on her back. Pushing to get out.
(passage from a short story)

Day Seventeen

Even in the darkest day
When everything you are
Is consumed by the nothing
That clouds your beauty
I will be there
(poem)

Day Nineteen

As her eyes absorbed the twinkling of the stars, they began to shine with the smallest swelling of dew drop tears. A bright silver light shoots across the velvet sky and vanishes, leaving a glitter of hope lingering in her heart. She blows out the candle with a whisper; ‘I wish’
(passage from a short story)

Day Twenty

The oppressive sky did not open on Enra as she walked to school, but she wore the hood of her weather beaten old raincoat up anyway. She stared at her feet as she walked, taking some solace in the steady rhythm the clicking of her heels provided. Somehow, she felt surprised with every step she took that the ground was still beneath her feet. A part of her believed (or perhaps hoped) that she would suddenly slip through a crack and disappear
(passage from a short story)

Day Twenty Four

The roots from which we grow
Do not define us but they are still present
I would not be the person that I am today
Without my parents
And everything ever taught to me
By anyone, which is everyone
Because every word I ever heard
Has influenced the way I think
I am a product of my environment
And nothing more
For every thought I have
A seed was planted long before
And to change the way you think
Is to acknowledge your own conditioning
Which means opening your eyes
And really, really listening
(spoken word)

The crowd gathers and sways
The lovers embrace
And as the music swells through all of our hearts
Theirs beat as one
Somewhere far away from the rest of us
We are just the backdrop to their love
We are the decoration to support the declaration that they make
He takes her in his arms
And holds her like she is the only thing worth living for.
And the rest of us dance
(poem/spoken word)

I am happy here
Here where everything is soft around the edges
Where the textures are so rich and deep
I can sink my fingers right through like treacle
This land of no mirrors
Where you only see yourself
Reflected in the smiles of others
(poem/spoken word)
(side note – I performed the full version of this at shambala festival at an open mic and it went really well. Three strangers came up to me later at the festival and told me that they loved it. I nearly cried with joy.)

Day Twenty Five 

Secrets being spilled
They soak into our skin
And stain our blood with fire
We boil and bubble under the surface
Waiting
Grinding through the dirt
Filling our fingernails
Trying to carve new paths
(poem/spoken word)

Day Twenty Nine

I want to sleep in the trunk of a tree
And let the rain wash my face
And the ground toughen my feet
And the sun burn my skin
And the wind chill my bones
And the cold bite into my heart
And freeze it.
(poem)

Well. There we are. I’m actually quite surprised at how much of what I wrote I liked. There’s a few interesting points to be made.

1. I have not copied down a single complete piece. Everything I have written here today is an extract from something bigger. In some cases they are the only lines swimming in a sea of utter shite. In other cases, it is just my favourite bit of a perfectly acceptable piece. There are plenty of days where I wrote stuff but none of it was good enough to put on here. It goes to show it’s worth writing a lot of crap just to find a couple of good lines.

2. My environment massively effects how I write. Looking over this, all my very best stuff was written when I was outside. Writing in my cluttered miserable bedroom brought about no good. And also a lot of my favourites were written during Shambala festival – when I was watching a lot of spoken word and poetry. Surround yourself with art and it will bring out the artist in you.

3. If I had not done this challenge, none of this would have been written. Not a single word of it. By forcing myself into the habit of writing regularly, I have managed to produce some half decent material that simply would not have existed before. That makes it all completely worth it (even if I did go a little bit crazy and depressed sometimes)


So where do I go next? I want to keep writing, absolutely. I really feel like I began to improve and get a sense of style towards the end of the thirty days. I have some room in my notebook left. What I intend to do is take some of these extracts I have picked, completely isolated from the pieces from which they were extracted, and use them to create new material, hopefully better than the originals. Be my own inspiration. And then, well, I’ll start a new notebook!

I’m pretty happy with myself. Result.

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