I got skills

I'm good at getting interested in learning skills.
I’m sure that classifies as a skill in its own right. 
As a child, I never had the opportunity to find 
out what I really like.

But there’s only 100 words so I’m not wasting them 
to analyse why that is.

The skill I have always wanted to master, and one 
that I secretly still want to 
is singing.

I don’t really like my voice. 
I am on the deeper end of the spectrum for ladies 
and I don’t think my speech is very melodic. 

Yet, there might be something to it. 

……….

Source: 365 Days of Writing Prompts, January 22

If you could choose to be a master of any skill, which skill would you pick?

Ok, I can’t leave it just like this. I really really really want to learn to sing. (Yes, the three reallys are necessary.) It’s not even about the singing…it’s more about finding and commanding my voice. The commanding part is actually crucial. I remember how terribly shy I was at school and how terrifying it was to sing in front of the whole class. Something I have managed, in some extend, to overcome (not the singing obviously, the shyness. Why do I feel like I’m over-explaining?).

As I mentioned, I don’t like my voice very much but I think it does have power and this power should be explored. Problem is, this is not something I can actually do on my own. I mean there are online courses and apps and whatnots. But. What I really need is an affirmation of a real person, that maybe, there is a tiny bit of a chance that I could learn to sing to an extend where I’m not ashamed to use my vocal cords.

Which is fine. I need a singing teacher/ vocal coach person. This is the part where I miss not living in London anymore. I would not want to live or work in London again. That is not what I’m saying. I still love London. And I miss it. But I don’t want to go back. I do, but just to visit. It’s August and I haven’t been this year yet…stupid virus. The point, let’s get to the point….everything is easy in London. You want to try something, you have at least ten different options to choose from. In Slovakia (where I’m now), you’ll be lucky to find one. Exploring various skills in your adulthood is not a very strong trend here. Of course, there are singing courses…for children. I feel so old it this country.

Twenty-five (A)

Forever is the longest time
No beginning 
No middle 
No end
Yet we promise ourselves to this eternity
We promise to hold our love in our souls for ever

Never feels much like forever
Perfect opposites 

Never is non existent 
No thought
No opportunity
No life
Yet we think we could keep our minds locked 
We think hiding our emotions is showing strength

Forever loves never
Never loves forever
Words with no sense  

World is full of middle ground
Mix blue with white or green with yellow
Every colour in the universe 

Just pick something else
Enough of the extremes

……….

Source: 365 Days of Writing Prompts, March 4

alphabet has 26 letters. write a post without using one of them.

This was fun. I skipped “A”. And for some reason this feels like a twist on the A to Z challenge. Maybe a future series?

Look what I became

People following their dreams and ambitions. Yes, it is frustrating if you have a whole battle plan figured out and stick to it, yet the desired end is nowhere to be seen. But. Isn’t it worse to have all these dreams and do nothing to achieve them?

That’s me…incapacitated by inaction. It feels too overwhelming and scary to pursue them. What if it doesn’t work out? I hate having this fear of failure. This constant nagging of the logical part of my brain thinking only of paying the bills and mortgage forcing the creative part into submission. It is debilitating.

I guess I am not in a very positive bubble at the moment because I am taking this personally… Well, that is not entirely true, I just feel a bit tired. To be honest, I don’t really want to go down the rabbit hole of self-doubt and feeling sorry for myself. I could, but what is that good for?


Sure, everyone has dreams and ambitions and plans and stuff. And it is frustrating if things don’t go according to plans. Especially if you have a whole battle plan figured out and you tick the boxes one by one and the desired end is nowhere to be seen.

…………..

Source: 365 Days of Writing Prompts

3rd line of the song you’re listening to at the moment, 15 minutes of writing.

The song is Livin’ for That by Lil Pitchy

The above is the updated version to fit the format of 100 words. Below is the raw version in line (mostly) with the rules of the prompt.


It is not the worst thing though. Isn’t it worse to have all these dreams and do nothing to achieve them? And feel sorry for yourself? Even sadder is if one gives up on all dreams.


I’m sort of in the passive group of sad people who have dreams but for some reason are incapacitated by inaction…I am trying to get over that. Sometimes it just feels too overwhelming and scary to pursue something, and let’s be real, (also I’ve just realized that I forgot to start the timer…but I think I’ve been writing for about 10 minutes, so I’ll just do the timer for another 5. I’m failing at the simplest tasks…) you have to be willing to dedicate your time and energy to your dreams and take the big jump into a scary place. It may not work. It may be a complete disaster.  I hate having this fear of failure. This constant nagging of the logical part of brain that thinks only of paying the bills and mortgage and forces the creative part into submission. It is debilitating. I think I just went down the rabbit hole…

From A to Z

Another one of those.

But I don’t mind.

Complaining would be silly.

Dumb even.

Everyone knows why.

For me, this is fun.

Greatest of funs!

Hot delicious topic.

I love alphabet.  

Just see my posts.

Know how many there are?

Lots of them…too many?

My go to where I don’t know what to write.

Never let me down.

On hand when I need it.

Perfect solution.

Questioning everything?

Reasoning with the world?

Start at “A”.

That is a good start. 

Undoubtedly. 

Very sure about that.

What do you say?

Xeroxed idea?

Yes, maybe but not really.

Zip it haters. 

………….

Source: 365 Days of Writing Prompts, July 27

26 sentences. First sentence starts with “A” etc.

It was fun to fit this one in 100 words.

The satisfaction of a list

  1. explore ideas, challenges, writing prompts
  2. pick what could work for you, be it one source or several
  3. will you consider skipping a writing prompt or will you take them as they come?
  4. decide on a format of the posts
  5. will you allow digression from the format if the prompt requires it or will you mould the topic to your format?
  6. how often do you want to post and for how long?
  7. do you want to plan your posts or write them on the spot?
  8. are you ready to start?
  9. pick your first topic.

I have just completed the list above.

Source: 365 Days of Writing Prompts, April 15

Who doesn’t love a list? So write one!

Start of a new series I guess. It is more of an exercise for me than anything else. A way to get back to the habit of writing. And let’s be real, I need some help with that!

So yes, I have not only written but also completed the above list.

  • I have picked the 365 Days of Writing Prompts as a source material for inspiration.
  • I will skip the topics I am not happy to write about and I will not follow the chronology either, hence the start with April 15. The prompt just made sense for me as a first post.
  • The format will probably change, depending on the writing prompt, but I will keep the word count to exactly 100 words every time.
  • The plan is to post every Friday and I will most likely prepare and schedule ahead (unless the prompt requires something else). I will post as long as I feel like it or as long as I feel I need the practice.

Day 10 [Writing 101]

Clementines, satsumas, mandarines –

one of those small round oranges,

the ones that come with Christmas.

They sit in the big white bowl

surrounding the wise pineapple

or jump over bananas.

The apples are green with envy

for they get all the attention.

Walnuts are trying to get through but

they alway fall through the cracks.

They are the rocks at the bottom of the fruit display.

Ho ho ho

 

~ yeah, hmm, random. I’m not much of a foodie but I do remember the excitement of Christmas when we were allowed the small orange fruit – lets call them satsumas although it might had been mandarines (does anyone know the difference?). Exotic fruit was a short supply commodity in the 80s in the communist countries, especially if you suffered from lack of money as well (which we did). And although we have embraced the advantages of free economy, up to this day I only buy satsumas at Christmas time.

Writing 101 – Day 10

Day 9 [Writing 101]

Dress him in a sweater

   The excitement of the retirement home residents over yet another bingo afternoon left her yearning for a small explosive device. Not that the other activities were more fun. Like this knitting. They knit sweaters for dogs. Dogs! Not orphans, not homeless, not the affected by war. No. They knit for dogs. But at least she can take the needles and yarn with her to the park; it may take few hours before the caretakers notice she’s gone AWOL. She stretches her fingers. Damn arthritis. She wouldn’t mind to be young again for a moment, just like the two lovebirds strolling across the grass. She would pass on the drama of the youth though. That seems to be raised by a notch by each generation. Everything is going down the drain nowadays. Dogs  wear clothes, men are crying and being old gives you the privilege to do what they tell you to do. Back to knitting, we don’t want the damn dogs to freeze.

   I still don’t believe Dukey is gone. My little puppy. I keep thinking about him. I try not to, especially with the cuts at the office. I am so distracted and the work is getting to me. The queen B of a boss is breathing down my neck, terrorising me with her sneaky eyes from 9 to 6. I wish I could retire and sit outside and read, play with dogs or even knit like the old lady on the bench. Is that a little sweater? It’s too little for a baby though. Oh my, so sweet – I think she is making it for a dog. Dukey would look so cute in a red sweater like that. I say that to Tom, but I don’t think he is really listening. I always thought he couldn’t stand Duke, but then he – I can’t think about it. It was such a horrible day. Tom is fidgeting. Is he crying? I would never say he has such a sensitive soul. I squeeze his hand harder and lean on his shoulder to assure him he can count on me.

   He blinks. He double blinks, triple blinks and flutters his eyelids so fast his vision is blurred. The speck of something is still lodged in his eye. His right hand is plastered up to his biceps and his left is trapped in hers. It would be unwise to try to extricate himself. He double blinks again. She keeps talking about the dog. Duke Zuzu Theodore the Third. There never was Duke Zuzu Theodore the First, nor Second for that matter. First class Pomeranian. First class yapping pom pom more likely. He was squashed under the wheels of the neighbour’s car two weeks ago along with his stupid heroic arm that tried to grab him out of harm’s way. She is still upset about it. Although it’s not a surprise that the mongrel ran off on the road. His eyes starts to water. Blink. Blink. How can I get this thing out of my eye? Triple blink.

Writing 101 – Day 9

Day 8 [Writing 101]

Wednesday. Lunch break. The day of the food market. The windswept passageways of the architectonic disaster also known as One New Change are flooded with hunters and gatherers. 15 minutes wait for a paella is not worth of my time. 15 minutes of waiting for anything is not worth of my time. The dog must have eaten his wristwatch; mine commands exact 12:46. Second date has ceased to be a romantic encounter for me and I start scripting a dump-fest in my head.

I spot him at the Portuguese stand being swallowed by the chorizo lovers. It would appear he has forgotten to sharpen his elbows today. He struggles to manoeuvre through the gaps; an elephant trapped in a glass labyrinth would be more elegant. 12:51 and I’m faced with a rumpled suit and sweat patches. His mouth is opening and closing so he must be vomiting an apology but I am distracted by the small drop trickling down his left cheek. It is almost at his chin. I don’t wait for it to fall.

 

Writing 101 – Day 8

 

Day 7 [Writing 101]

 

”Stop wiggling, would you?”

”Only if you get OFF MY BACK!’

”We have been over this zillion times already my dear. I am the head therefore am on the top.”

”Just because you are the head it doesn’t mean you get to choose!”

”Sure it does sweet cheeks. Of course butt like you could never understand this. Well it is not entirely surprising as you do not have a brain and therefore lack in th—”

”I’M NOT A BUTT – I AM A TAIL!’

”Tail, butt, ass – same difference”

”Did you just…you…how dare you…you, you…”

”Trouble expressing yourself?”

”Aaaargh. You are soooo….”

”Please honey,  calm down and go to sleep. Shall I sing something to you? And PLEASE stop the wiggling already.”

”That wasn’t me.”

”You’re the tail. You wiggle.”

”It wasn’t ME. It was him.”

”Oh.”

”I think we are going out.”

”You can’t think, you don’t hav—”

”Whatever. I’m right. We are going to fly. And maybe this time I will land on the top.”

”In your dreams.”

”He’s gonna flip it.”

”No he’s not and anyway brainless ass in charge? Not on my wa—”

”Here we goooo!”

‘—–aaaaaaatch!”

 

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Writing 101 – Day 7

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