There is a movement towards getting somewhere lately, towards putting aside distractions (blogging for example), and actually putting things on paper, or virtual paper at any rate.

Somewhere however I get to this point of wondering whether the whole situation isn’t going a little beyond just deciding to pull my finger out. I make an effort to spend a day out of the house, somewhere anonymous and impersonal, and get a good swath of writing done.

So ensconced in a comfortable wee corner, by a fireplace, coffee in hand – and a good coffee to. Funny how often you find places that actually make good coffee… really good coffee… and find that they are not only operated, but owned by Aussies. Damn we’re good…

Anyhoo, so here I am armed with all the necessities of writing – well apart from cigarettes, but they’re illegal in here anyway, and I don’t (unfortunately) smoke any more anyway – and in walks a bunch of fucking loudmouths. How very stereotypical, yanks visiting the British relos, and by god do they know how to talk.

So in regard to my earlier point, I am questioning if perhaps there is more of a block to actually getting something done than merely having self developed distractions, or whether the universe is testing my resolve. I think perhaps the latter, or otherwise there is no reason that I can understand that I am (even across the pond, and north of the wall) still being plagued by north America.

… Not that I would be guilty of passing the buck or anything…


~ by Gethin A. Lynes on March 8th, 2008.

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