Chasing Melancholia

I haven’t posted in a while. I blame Spring and Summer with their inviting weather which leads me away from my general melancholia fueled musings.

I get the writing bug just about the time that the sun is absent when I wake up for work. Thoughts turn to the transitory nature of existence and I feel compelled to chronicle my sophmoric love affair with mortality.

I woke up Regina (my typewriter) from her slumber and wrote a quick exploratory piece about a man who looks back on a childhood memory. An old man used to play guitar at the local mercantile and one day sings a confession to the boy. The boy was too young at the time to pick up on it and he only realizes it many years later when an article in the newspaper recounts how a skeleton was found out behind the mercantile while crews were digging a new septic pond.

Not a great story but at least I dipped a toe in the water.

I look at the other writers I follow and they have been consistently producing some great work. I hate all of you. Seriously though, so many of you produce great work and there are so many other great writers out there who are just waiting for their break who grind it out day after day. It’ll happen.

As the temperature drops, I suspect my output will increase. Until then, I’ll be content to catch up on all the other writer’s posts that I’ve neglected to keep up with.

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6 thoughts on “Chasing Melancholia

  1. Do I get to be among those you “hate?” 😉 It sure would be a nice change for me, for once.
    I don’t get seasonal breaks from the melancholia that fuels your affair with Regina, so I may perseverate on mortality all year long, but I actually wouldn’t envy me if I didn’t, knowing what I know…
    Welcome back from your hiatus! Lucky…
    And good luck!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I had to look up perseverate! Thanks for the new word. I am only an occasional sojourner into the writer’s realm and can only look fondly in on those who give a sincere go of it. It makes me feel cheap, really. And, yes, if you need me to say it, I hate you. Take care.

      Like

  2. I wrote a poem called “Leaving Melancholia” and that’s why I clicked over here. I strung the random words of a prude together so she would sound like an alcoholic. My readers thought I was writing about being in rehab. I think someone had a small panic attack. I totally deserved that. I see you are managing quite well, Mr. Williams. x

    Liked by 1 person

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