I’m an everyday person.
A book without a cover.
A story you read hundred times before.
Nothing interesting
Or raises curiosity
I’m a boring song
Annoying melody
Heard thousand times before
I’m nothing but normal,
If not below normal.
I’m no body’s dream
I’m not even a thought.
I catch no second glances
If I caught a first
then I am lucky
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
When Your Muse Turns Against You.
“Can I know what am I doing here now?”
“You are here to help me write, aren’t you?”
“And what do you want to write about now?”
“Work”
“What’s wrong with your work?” He answered with a sigh.
“They are treating us like slaves, they don’t tell us stuff about anything and we are the ones to blame if we made a mistake. Not to mention, that they say something and they deny it later…”
“Are you gonna complain more?” he interrupted, seeming bored.
“What?”
“All you do is complaining. Whenever I am here you complain. First, school, then, college, next comes work, and what will you complain about later, marriage. I am sick of your complains. Not everything you should write about is only complains. Write about something fun, gardens, hobbits, elves, anything happy. PLEASE”
I looked baffled. He never, and I mean NEVER, talked to me like that. We sure had small talks and discussions where we had conflicting ideas, but no real conflicts. What is going on? Since when do muses turn against you?
“Wha…WHAT are you talking about? I don’t complain all the time. I write funny stories…”
“You mean dark comedies.”
“I write romances…”
“Where people get cancer and die horrible deaths”
“I write, I write, yes I write thrillers…”
“This is an only one, which you even didn’t complete”
“And whose fault is that?. YOU are my MUSE. You are responsible for my writing”
“And I am telling you now to stop this kind of writing and choose something else.”
“Like what? I don’t know how to write something else”
“What are you doing now?”
“Writing”
“Wasn’t it me who helped you to write our predicament here?”
“Yes”
“So, I am always here to help you. All you have to do is just sit in front of the computer and stare at the blank screen. Summon me just like you did right now, and I will be here in no time.” He said smirking.
“It’s not like you answer every time.” I looked at him. Giving him the ‘don’t give me that shit, I know it all’ look
“Well I am a guy and I have needs, so when I don’t have needs, just holler and I will be here. Of course holler in your head, figuratively. Don’t do it for real, people would think you went crazy”
“FINE”
“So you agree?”
“Agree about what?”
“NO COMPLAINS”
“We will see, I’ll do my best, can’t promise you more than that. No pun intended.”
“Ok, I can deal with that?. So, do you need anything else?”
“Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, did you see the music muse, MAN, isn’t she hot?”
“Get out of here, you disgust me.”
“Well you love me and neeeeeed me” he said rubbing my arm.
“GET OUT, and don’t forget I will need you soon, I have to finish another chapter of my novel”
“OK, take care, love you” He kissed my cheek and went as he came. Just like that.
“You are here to help me write, aren’t you?”
“And what do you want to write about now?”
“Work”
“What’s wrong with your work?” He answered with a sigh.
“They are treating us like slaves, they don’t tell us stuff about anything and we are the ones to blame if we made a mistake. Not to mention, that they say something and they deny it later…”
“Are you gonna complain more?” he interrupted, seeming bored.
“What?”
“All you do is complaining. Whenever I am here you complain. First, school, then, college, next comes work, and what will you complain about later, marriage. I am sick of your complains. Not everything you should write about is only complains. Write about something fun, gardens, hobbits, elves, anything happy. PLEASE”
I looked baffled. He never, and I mean NEVER, talked to me like that. We sure had small talks and discussions where we had conflicting ideas, but no real conflicts. What is going on? Since when do muses turn against you?
“Wha…WHAT are you talking about? I don’t complain all the time. I write funny stories…”
“You mean dark comedies.”
“I write romances…”
“Where people get cancer and die horrible deaths”
“I write, I write, yes I write thrillers…”
“This is an only one, which you even didn’t complete”
“And whose fault is that?. YOU are my MUSE. You are responsible for my writing”
“And I am telling you now to stop this kind of writing and choose something else.”
“Like what? I don’t know how to write something else”
“What are you doing now?”
“Writing”
“Wasn’t it me who helped you to write our predicament here?”
“Yes”
“So, I am always here to help you. All you have to do is just sit in front of the computer and stare at the blank screen. Summon me just like you did right now, and I will be here in no time.” He said smirking.
“It’s not like you answer every time.” I looked at him. Giving him the ‘don’t give me that shit, I know it all’ look
“Well I am a guy and I have needs, so when I don’t have needs, just holler and I will be here. Of course holler in your head, figuratively. Don’t do it for real, people would think you went crazy”
“FINE”
“So you agree?”
“Agree about what?”
“NO COMPLAINS”
“We will see, I’ll do my best, can’t promise you more than that. No pun intended.”
“Ok, I can deal with that?. So, do you need anything else?”
“Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, did you see the music muse, MAN, isn’t she hot?”
“Get out of here, you disgust me.”
“Well you love me and neeeeeed me” he said rubbing my arm.
“GET OUT, and don’t forget I will need you soon, I have to finish another chapter of my novel”
“OK, take care, love you” He kissed my cheek and went as he came. Just like that.
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