Ok twenty minutes set on the oven for my dinner to be cooked, twenty minutes for me to write my first instalment as part of the writing 101 challenge.
It’s funny how as soon a I have begun typing my mind has gone completely blank. It tends to do that when I need it the most – scumbag brain, much? (Did I actually just write that down?)
It’s the same with other situations, as soon as we’re put in the spotlight why do we close up. Surely that’s our chance to shine with all eyes and ears directed at us.
Five minutes in and I’m still at a loss. Although it feels a little weird typing out exactly what I’m thinking, makes me realise how stupid my internal dialogue sounds.
Imagine what life would be like if our lives were like TV shows such as Scrubs. Where our inner thoughts were publicised as we lived. Such as walking down the street and having someone like Morgan Freeman narrate our thoughts. How much trouble would we all be in?
But at the same time how free would we be? No need to bite your tongue, plus you would know exactly what people thought of you. Providing you’re not a completely arse, you would be fine.
10 minutes left and I’m at a wall again. Guess I better boil the kettle for the veg. Man do I really want to kill that fly that sneaked in when I opened the garden door.
I know it wouldn’t work and it wouldn’t be sustainable, not to mention the horrible effect it would have on the planet. But it would be fantastic if we could rid the world of spiders and insects.
Ok from this exercise I can safely say journalism or creative writing isn’t my forte. After all I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes scratching my head like a caveman just to write this…masterpiece?
Why is it that mixed bags of frozen veg always have tonnes of carrots in them but never the veg you really want like the broccoli and cauliflower.
Three minutes left and I still haven’t come up with anything thought-provoking or exciting. Although I feel like I’m doing a diary for a reality show. Day 1 and there is no sign of intelligent life…
I have to admit though, within a short amount of time I’ve written quite a bit, rambled quite a lot. But man am I going to hate reading this back, and I won’t be able to edit it.
Time to question how I’ve gotten so far in life with this brain. I want a refund.