Thursday, 30 October 2014

Penning down life.

Radio One is playing in my ear, as I sit cross-legged on my bed, and the smell of food drifts into my bedroom from downstairs. I think it's Biffy Clyro and Bastille doing a cover. Playing I mean, not cooking in my kitchen. My dad's making lasagne. I am suppressing my deep stomach rumbles as I continue to type. I'm on a writing mission, as I explained a few posts ago. I need to beat last year's post record. Also, I somehow believe that writing and publishing snippets of my writing, whether it be random head-space typing on the bus home after a long, rubbish day at uni, or drunk 2am notes made on my phone, a creative piece or just a rant, or a list or something, in the long run, maybe it will make me more organised.
I've got to work on my ECP/CWP: it depends which uni you attend, some call it an Extended Creative Project, while others, including my Uni, know it and refer to it as a Creative Writing Project. Either way, it's a project I write myself, creatively. A story. A plot. A narrative piece of my own brainwork. Whatever, its a creative writing dissertation. As far as some are concerned, its slanderous. I should be writing my own, English Literature dissertation. Well, I stick two fingers up to those people, because this thing is bloody hard work, and I'm trying.

So yes. Back to my point. I told you, I tend to wander, both physically and mentally, from time to time. Maybe it makes for good writing, but at the grand old age of 21, I'm yet to know either way.

I should be using my Thursday evening for something constructive or organised. Instead, lucky me!!! I'm off out for food with my lovely boyfriend. I'm very excited about this, because as everyone knows, I LOVE food, and even more so, I LOVE going OUT for food. (hence the really bad caps.)

Maybe no one even reads this. I'm a bit frantic, and sometimes, I write for an imagined audience. Although, I must say, I hope there's someone in that void. Someone reading my mad rants, drunken outbursts and occasional attempts of real writing. Let me know, whoever you may be. I'll be ever so grateful.

No comments:

Post a Comment