Another Week Gone By

It's been an ups & downs kinda weekend. I suppose it's been an ups & downs kinda week in reality. I had another day of the mehs. That's what I'm going to call that feeling when nothing is really wrong (or more wrong than normal) but you still feel sad, mixed with a bit of nearly-anger and a little don't-give-a-shits. It's days like today that one of my favorite Eliot quotes runs through my head. And it is as follows:
"My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
"Speak to me. Why do you never speak. Speak.
"What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
"I never know what you are thinking. Think."

It just runs through my head in Vivianne's voice. Clearly don't know what her voice sounds like, but in my head, it is the voice from the actress in Tom & Viv.

I've been in the sort of mood today that in years past would have had me hunched over a spiral writing away. Poetry, non-fiction, fictional short stories. Anything. And perhaps that's what makes me sink further into the mehs lately. The fact that I can't do that anymore. I feel no longer an artist. No longer a poet. Just a girl with a jumbled head and nothing to show for it.

Yes it's the dark mehs today. My forgotten poet in the closet next to the dolls mehs. I really wish if I were to be so that I'd be able to produce like I used to, like I want to. I'm not sure if it's this mess in my head or if it's the weight of reality, but something keeps me from it. Perhaps in my head there used to be perch near the fire. While Mr Monkey would work away a beautiful bird would sit on that perch. As the bird would drop feathers, the feathers would become the words I wrote. A little bird that fed me inspiration. I hope that bird has only flown into the dark abyss, back and back further into the land of the filing cabinets. I do so hope the bird will be back some day.

And how is that for dramatic? I really must pull myself up. There's no time for the mehs. I have too much to do this week. The mehs must be brushed aside. And so they shall be!