Now that I’m working full time again, I find myself with time to spare during work hours. Previously, I would use this time to catch up on my internet activity – saving me time when at home. To some extent I’ve started to do this again.
My ability to concentrate, or absorb, posts on blogs and message boards is low. In other words, my attention span is short and I still find many topics to be unimportant, pointless. But that is my problem, no one else’s. Yet I can’t sit at my desk and do nothing. That wouldn’t be healthy for my state of mind. I have to stay busy, or I’ll be swallowed by depression. I can’t allow that.
I thought about picking up on the edit of Cat’s Eyes, but that’s too much, too soon. I’ve been looking at (well, “thinking about” might be closer to the truth) the other unfinished projects I have, but I don’t feel motivated to do any of them.
This morning, I had fragments of a dark short story twirling around in my mind. Yes, it would approach the subject of suicide, and the crushed emotions of the survivors (people left behind). Yes, it would be based (loosely) on my own experience. And, I don’t know that there would be a positive spin to it or not (yet). This type of story isn’t usually what I’d write, but isn’t writing any story better than writing nothing? And, to me, I don’t think I’d be writing the story for publication, but that mindset might change later.
As the thoughts are there, I think I’ll let them formulate into something more solid and see what happens. I might end up with a horror story, or a story that raises suicide awareness, or just an emotional tangle of words. Who knows? But I should find out.