I am constantly confused. For the past few years, confusion has been my primary state.
I don't generally write fiction with any real understanding of anything. Hell, the only place I write where I understand anything is the technology journalism with which I work in.
But when I write randomly and the randomly written writings come out, they spew forth in almost a gibberish form. Loose sentences sticking to a page connected only by articles, particles, and segments of words that get meshed & melded to become paragraphs like this one.
I don't know how they got there and usually don't get. A fluke. A random bit of science.
Hey, it works.
But lately, I feel inspired… and today, my story-writing writer's block broke.
It was almost as if a giant adjective spawning block of ice that had been sitting on top of the squishy grey matter I call a brain got knocked off while I wasn't looking and fell on the floor. A loud explosion followed and the shards created little jingling sounds like a thousand pins falling from a deep jar into a stone cavern floor.
They echoed in my brain and with the echoes came words, ideas, and a connection that brought them into the front and said "hey Leigh, you're back motherfucker!"
And I have an orange poppyseed muffin & industrial grade disinfectant to thank.
Thank you tasty overpriced three dollar pastry & chemical that made eating it quite disgusting.
Now – as I sit with my stomach telling me just how much it appreciates both of you working together – I linger on a thought that keeps me writing, and it's not a gut busting one either.
My girlfriend keeps me writing. I know she inspires me and the good thoughts that push all those little inklings of paragraphs into the front of my brain come from the thought of her.
Thank you, dearest. I can breathe again.