It’s funny when thoughts vanish just as you put the pen to paper. Or, as is more appropriate in these online times, as you put your fingers on the keyboard. It’s like picking up a furiously ringing phone only to hear a bleak dial tone as you make vain attempts to elicit some other response by repeatedly shouting Hello into it (and then looking at the receiver as if a ghost got the better of it).
Or when you switch on the TV to find a blank, blue screen (Although with all the crap that they show, perhaps the b. blue screen has its own use). Remember “Tom… No Answer”? (Brush up on your Mark Twain if you hadn’t done so in a while). That’s what it’s like. Like somebody putting a glass wall just before the waves hit the rocks, leaving them literally high and dry. A gush of feelings, ideas, emotions, like criss-cross shadows struggling to share the spot-light, not knowing that shadows don’t survive spot-lights…
Like a bunch of five year olds learning to play football, the aim being just to hit the ball somehow, the goal would take care of itself. Like me writing all this without any goal in mind. Only the shadows of those kids, like multi-colored laser lights at once blinding you, and leaving you in the dark simultaneously.
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