An Acrobatic Extravaganza!

Hunger gnaws at me, tearing my insides apart. I should venture out for a nibble, a bite, a snack. Yet, I remain rooted, lost in a world that is not my own. Stuck between reality and nonexistence, I balance on a dew drop and one wrong move will cause my fall.

In one hand, I juggle the steal balls of work, family, and health. In the other, I juggle the flaming swords of writing, friends and recreation. As balls and swords intermingle in the air I hop between the thin wires of Mom, Writer, Manager, and Myself. All while blind folded. And such is my life, a never ending acrobatic extravaganza!

Sometimes I can manage with extraordinary dexterity. But every now and then, a ball with fall or a flaming sword will cut deep and the whole she-bang will come crashing down around me. I will fall into a pit of unknown doubts and nothing will come from it for a while.

But always I pick up the balls and swords, climb out of the pit and with a deep breath begin again.

Today, I feel on the brink of a fall, my reaction times are slowing and I catch the juggle with sweating finger tips. My shoes are wearing thin from the sharp wires. Should I keep up as I have been, knowing the pit awaits me? Or should I make my way to the edge, and take a break for a little while?

Of Two Minds

At just before four in the morning I’m torn. Should I go back to bed, get a few more hours of sleep or should I take advantage of the predawn stillness and let the whispers guide my hand to bring life onto paper?

As I wait for the Bright Eyed Quill to slip once more into the land of sweet dreams the stories take shape in the sleep-fogged recesses of my mind. Three to four hours of rare uninterrupted writing time lay right within my grasp. I can all but taste the sharp tang of graphite dust, the promise of a blissful hit of my sweet addiction.

I yearn for that escape, the joy of watching worlds unfold across off white and the thrill of exploring the minds of unnumbered people. To cast aside all worries of my mundane life and simply exist would be damn near orgasmic.

Yet the responsible adult in me is appalled. I’m about to endure a long stretch of late nights and early mornings. I should sleep while I have the chance. I’d regret the lack of sleep as I make the midnight drive home tonight.

“You cannot count on a nap before work,” my mind says, “Sleep while you have the chance.”

“You sleep every night, how often do you get to write now a days?” The voices whisper. “You got a solid three hours already. Indulge your passion, your dreams and the rewards will be well worth the loss of a few hours tonight.”

I can’t decide as both hold equal draw, the same importance and mutual priority. Yet, I cannot simply remain in this purgatory. I’ll flip a coin and let it guide my actions.

Heads-I let my mind unfold across the infinite nothingness and allow myself to be possessed by those who need to share their stories.

Tails-I lay myself down to sleep with the promise of another opportunity as this and the knowledge that I’ll start the swing refreshed.

The coin is warm between my fingers, a testament to the heat that awaits the dawn. I close my eyes and send a slight prayer to guide the coin and flip it into the air.

Stark man-made light glints off the etched surface as it falls end over end. A regal profile, a majestic bird, heads, tails and back again. I shut my eyes once more as it nears the ground and wait for the muffled signal.

The coin, which was to help my indecision lodged into the tight coarse weave of the carpet. On it’s edge, nether heads nor tails.

Well shit.

My Biggest Weakness's

As an emerging author, I’ve hit a wall. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, the catch 22 of publishing. I can’t be published without having already been published. Over the past year, I’ve beat my head against said hard place, trying to figure out the best way to obtain those coveted publishing creds. And up until just last night, I’ve come up blank.

After a lot of searching and evaluating, I’ve figured out the things standing in my way. My weakness that make up the hard place and my thought patterns that have solidified the rock.

1)      I cannot (at this time) write short stories.

2)      Entering contest’s require money I do not have

3)      I get distracted from writing too easily

4)      It’s difficult for me to interact with other writers.

5)      My editing skills are not where they should be.

I’m sure there are more but those five are the biggest. Over the coming weeks, I’ll be focusing on improving each one until there is nothing but myself standing in my way.