write you are!

What an unusual week it has been! When I say week I am estimating the actual days passed, so I should say "What an unusual time period it has been!" But then you wouldn't have an idea of how long. Get what I'm saying? Good, let me continue then.

First and foremost, I spent most of last week's four-day end out and about. I mention this not because it's special or I have any illusions about being a social butterfly, but because I want to swap weekends. You see, right now my internet is "shaped" or "capped" or "snail mode." whatever you want to call it, it's slllooow.
What this means is web pages don't load so fast and downloading is out of the question. I have been reduced to dial-up speeds. It feels like I'm using a school computer to browse at the best of times. When my brother is trying to browse at the same time? Fuhgheddaboutit!

What's that got to with swapping weekends? Everything! Being unemployed, I have too much spare time and most of that goes into internet related activities. Now though, these activities (I know, you're thinking it's porn) have become tedious. I am not surfing the web anymore, I am struggling against the current in a jumper, track pants and shoes. If the weekends were swapped, I'd be too busy going out and getting drunk to care or notice and I wouldn't have all this spare time to do nothing.

But since I don't have the power to swap time around, nor do I know anybody who does, I had to settle for doing something else. I cleaned my computer desk and organised my CDs. I cleaned my room and created a monster of a rubbish bag - the bag I used was friggin' huge and I filled it to bursting point, somehow managing to shove it in the garbage bin. Today I will do some gardening.

Tonight, not long ago, I did some writing. That's why I'm here, in all honesty. As per Max Barry's suggestion, I stopped myself writing when I hit a maximum word count. Well, rebel that I am, I went over it. Doubled it, actually. That means I want to continue writing and needed an outlet.

You may be curious about what I wrote about. It's an interesting short story that is going to be sent away and hopefully published as part of an anthology of similar stories. I like to think I'm on a good track with it. Hell, I still have ideas screaming in my brain that I am hoping will undergo mitosis and give me what I need to continue and then finish.

Funny truth: While I have had an idea about what to write for this story, it wasn't until I stared at the tiles on the toilet floor that I came up with the mega-wham of an idea which gave me what I needed to tear the blank white page to pieces (metaphorically; literally wouldn't be a good thing to do.) As Stephen King says: two unrelated ideas and you have a story. Well, in my case it was more like two unrelated activities. Then again in some tragic cases shitting and writing can be the same thing.

Here we go.

- Pary ζ.

there's no way I'll tell her,
not today, not tomorrow
the fantasy is so much better
and she knows it already