LOST...

So yeah, I seem to be lost again.

Stuck in the middle of where I am and where I want to be. Impatient for something that may not happen. Waiting for the moment where all I am doing will pay off, all the while I am trying not to get lost.

Well... I am. I seemed to have failed that... you know, the trying not to get lost again thing.

My thumb on my left had keeps twitching involuntarily. Weird.

Lost? Where? What happened? Well, nothing. Not really. Still working, still writing, still living with the love of my life and some animals that look after us. There is no great adventure. There is only my head... which is where I am lost. Again.

Thing is, I think it would generally be easier if I was lost in a wood or some vast desert or snow barren continent after waking up with no memory of who I am or how I got there. At least there would be a purpose. Some kind of plot that would propel me forward. Who am I? How did I get here? The need to survive. There would be drama, action, adventure. There would be something to get your teeth into, some substance, substance that I hope can be found in the stories I tell... But this 'adventure' or non adventure I find myself lost in... there is no substance, there is no tangible drama or meaty plot to get your teeth into. It's all so fucking abstract and not in an awesome David Lynch way with dancing dwarfs and damn fine coffee. The coffee is shit! It's just fragments of anxiety that rush through my like wind, a breeze, sometimes gusting, nearly knocking me off my feet.

Procrastination. That's what I fucking have. Thoughts. Bubbles upon bubbles of thoughts swell up inside my head and burst through my mouth as soon as I open it up. And these bubbles are coloured with worry, doubt... and not about anything important. All the important thoughts are stored safely away in boxes at the back of my head, behind all the bull crap that produces all these worry bubbles. Despite the amount that escapes my head there is always more, always fucking more.

I have found ways to get out of my head and find my footing on the planet. There are some good ways. The best being allowing my fingers to find letters and create words that produce interesting copy, stories, dialogue... This is what is important, this is what I need to be doing, this is what you all need to be doing.

What. You. Want. To.

If I was lost in the Arctic I would probably freeze to death in my current situation. Instead of the audience asking these questions of what is he doing there, how did he lose his memory, it would be me. Paralysed by the worry these questions produce when trying to work out the answers instead of just moving forward, looking for others, looking for a secret arctic base, finding a way to some kind of warmth. If I just stop worrying, over analysing and over thinking and make my feet move forward, one in front of the other... I would find my way, I would survive, I would make progress and get somewhere, get to where I want to.

Where. I. Want. To... be. Right here. Writing here for whoever finds it and wants to join me on a journey. Cheese. Totally. Canadian Mature is my favourite.

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