My muse

My muse is gone.

Calling it a muse would imply that I’m a creative artist (by google definition of course). Which I’m not (as we can tell).  And I have no muse (obvs).

I’m no writer. I like to think that I am. I weirdly get a lot of joy out of ticking away at my laptop relaying stories, opinions, thoughts and general bullshit – some published, some not (and by published, I mean a blog post = publish. Except that one time that I actually was published in a newspaper in London. I should’ve kept that newspaper as proof and posted a pic here. That’d have been effective to make this a worthwhile read).

But I’m not a writer. And I certainly have no muse.

However, there is a something – there is always a something – that sets my brain (and consequently my fingers – thank heavens for motor neurons I suppose) off on a tangent. A tangent that develops into a blog post. Or sometimes a press release (my PR agency hate me).

A tangent of words, that string together. And sometimes go somewhere. But mostly don’t. Try have a conversation with me when I think I know what I want to say. You’ll hardly leave satisfied. Heaven help my direct reports in our 1:1 meetings. I don’t think they have a clue what I mean half the time.

So I have no muse but I am hoping to work out what that something is. Or… as it’s escaped me for a few weeks (months) – where I could find it again. Oh wait. There are some blog posts in draft I guess. In fact, there are plenty. But those may remain there for a year. You know how I am.

Internalise crap. Rationalise it, analyse it, logicalise it (and make up words while I’m at it. Told you I’m no writer.)

And then, only once I’ve lost my shit in a dodgy bar in Sea Point and placed 17 phone calls to friends to tell them I love them, does it all come out.

And I publish.




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