Torture can present itself in many guises, but the most pernicious of these is the self-inflicted form… the ‘creep-up-and-bite-you-on-the -bum-when-you’re-not-looking’ variety, the ‘I-never-realized-that-was-happening’ format…I know this from deep personal experience, the ‘I-remember-when-I-used-to-have-a -life’ cry…Once upon a time, (you see, it’s even crept into my blogs), there lived a quiet gentle Scottish laddie, who lived by the beautiful ocean in the Middle East…the sun shone every day, he could play with his bucket and spade in the sand all day if he wanted to, wear sunglasses that would make Lady Gaga envious, and fly to London every now and then just to see what rain looked like… and was he happy? …apparently not… this poor unsuspecting boy had yearnings to be a writer, a peddler of prose, a worker of words… the lure was too strong.. a laptop was purchased, the devil’s workings it would ultimately prove…the web was introduced, (…’deliver us from email…’), Twitter was discovered, Facebook dawned…and the rest, as they say, (as they say), is His Story…no, that should read ‘history’…now, a couple of novels under his embryonic scriber’s belt and his life is mortgaged to the Great God Laptop, his waking hours shackled to the grindstone that’s laughingly dubbed the Sosyal Medya…the tentacles that bind became even more Medusa-like, as fellow authors, good people all, became ensnared in the same virtual mesh…the feeding of each other’s mail boxes a life-sustaining supply of communication oxygen…I have consulted experts on this, a couple of five-year old children who inhabit the same building as I…both of whom are light years in advance of me in knowledge of how to work the gadgetry that propels the modern day miracle that seems to have replaced actually talking to people…they told me, these children, in the politest of manners, “…regrettably, Sir, there is no known antidote…”… or, at least, I think they said that, it was them wasn’t it? wasn’t it?…I am quite sane, really I am…nurse, nurse what are you doing with that syringe,, leave me alone…I can get into bed without this silly jacket with knots at the back…
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Seumas! This mirrors my ‘over my morning coffee’ thoughts exactly. You see with my first year coming to a close, I am determined to get back to more things..’people’ but then I realized this… unless you move to the South I will not get to experience ‘all things Gallacher’ on a daily basis and well that settled the problem for me. I simply don’t want a cure for all the wonderful friends I have made over this last year…..so I hugged my laptop, explained it won’t be 40 hour days anymore and promised to be attentive to it at least part of the day=0/! Don’t you dare skip out now…take your nubby pencil and write this on the wall…..
“I live to write and write to live.” Possibly put it under the bed where the matron cannot find it!
Will be dutifully obeyed immediately, if not sooner m’Lady … LUV YA!
Ambition has no antidote any more than boredom has. Put the two together and ‘you’re banjaxed’. You have the hunger, the passion – put it to good use and make a mint/ amaze the world/ stun those critics who said ‘he’ll never amount to much’ (you know, people like your dad in my case).
Shouldn’t you be writing??
Yes. yes . and yes.. to all of the above ..
:)
Thank you for a lovely Sunday afternoon laugh! This is so true it brings tears to my eyes – should make every writer stop and look at his or her own situation. I, too, have been at at fault of “whining” but I bet I’ll think twice after this! Still laughing…….
Glad it made you smile. m’Lady … as sson as aI find the key to these handcuffs, I’ll be away from this laptop..
:)
It’s quite hopeless, Seumas. Let’s go down smiling.
Quite so, the die is set , of that I’m certain .. hum ho ..
:)
Seumas, again, you are in rare form and we are all the better for it.
Thank you, that man !
:) Have a great day, Jay ..
You think YOU have it bad…I first tweeted and bloggled and faced at the tender age of 54. I’m no stupid man, but I sure could have fooled a whole roomful of Harvard eggheads for the first 6 months, tell ya that for free. I sometimes wonder what it was like to furiously type all this doo-doo, carefully envelope and stamp it – dozens of times – then sit and wait for a year or two to get answers. Come to think of it…no I don’t…
We’re all doomed…our fate is fixed…so like the old saying goes, “if rape is inevitable, lie back and enjoy it.”
well I’m giving away 10 years to you, dear friend..I was brought dragging and screaming to this last tyear at the tender age of 63 1/2 Who says ye can’t teach an old dog new tricks ! ??
:)
ARF!!
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