Messy Drawers

by Rie

I am back. It is Easter Sunday (have a lovely Easter, by the way) and I am bored.

It is the sort of boredom I invite – pull a chair next to me, let’s laze and wander about this constructed maze of thoughts. I can only indulge in this once in a while.

I should start a food blog. It’s probably better than the teenage ennui that creeps into many of my writings.

The jump in my train of thoughts disconcerts me. Does everyone think like this?

Oh, I bought more pillows for my bed. They’re lovely and fat and fluffy.

I didn’t actually type that to prove a point. I just thought of my pillows. I think it would be best to leave this post largely unedited though. The lack of censure pleases me. For today anyway. On another other day I would like to be more put together.

It makes me think of the people who like my posts or follow me. I wonder how many of them are expecting me to click through to their blogs. I wonder if that’s why they like me in the first place.

Makes me think of real-life social situations. How many of them are expecting something of me? More compassion, more understanding, more boisterous joviality; at least I know they can’t be expecting perfection because no one knows what it is.

I think I will return to writing. My novel is a bit like a dead fish now: bloated at 24k words, death due to lack of attention. I don’t know how much of this novel will remain once I return to it. But I will. Maybe I’ll even finish in time.

I just named the post. I think it fits me.

And I have completely forgotten what I’ve written about. Hm.