“You get ideas from daydreaming. You get ideas from being bored. You get ideas all the time. The only difference between writers and other people is we notice when we’re doing it.”  – Neil Gaiman –

I want to write something beautiful, something uplifting and inspiring, but my mind is somewhat like the catacombs of Paris (or at least as I imagine them to be) going off in a hundred different directions and settling nowhere –  running in a never ending circle of tunnels where my thoughts are squirreled and moth-eaten.

Daydreaming is a rather frequent occupation in my little world. Outside snow flurries drift willy-nilly like dandruff falling from the sky. Not the big fluffy flakes that will no doubt make an appearance as winter advances, but the dry tiny bits of white, as though Mother Nature hoards her moisture for other times.

Today I have read repots of the damages caused by the remnants of hurricanes in my native province of Newfoundland & Labrador; of horrific devastation in Haiti; of further damages in Florida. There are also lots of stories about Donald Trump and Hilary Clinton and the ongoing battle of words as the U.S.A. presidential election draws nearer.

However, natural disaster, politics, crime, and human foibles of various kinds fail to hold my attention and not because I do not care. I do. It is just that my thoughts are as scattered as ashes in the wind and it would be easier to nail jelly to the wall than to put together any comprehensible stream of thought.

I want to write something beautiful – I cannot. But I do wish the world peace and strength to overcome all disaster. Perhaps tomorrow, when the cottony substance covering my brain is lifted I will do better. Until then I will allow myself to be lost in daydreaming.

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