Editor Christopher Writes – A Poem a Day: 07/01/12

Today has been a good sort of day. I have talked briefly in past posts about my lack of ‘get-up-and-go’ lately, which I attribute to what is currently happening to my psychological architecture. The past few weeks I have spent quite a lot of time sitting around not doing a lot. I was still going to the gym a few times a week but that was essentially it. I had no gumption to do anything or go anywhere. I subsided largely on a diet of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes – there are worse diets! I’d sit day after day, ruing the fact that, once again, I had not done anything productive. Then I would mentally beat myself for not doing anything productive. By the time my metaphorical self-flagellation had finished, I was mentally drained and how no energy to gear myself to do anything productive, so I wouldn’t. I would sit and mentally beat myself up for not doing anything productive. By the time my metaphorical…

The cycle continued. I felt a sense of dread whenever I thought about doing anything that could be considered even vaguely constructive. It sounds really silly, but even silly little things like putting the laundry away or tidying the lounge put a large dollop of fear right into the pit of my stomach. Once this feeling of dread consumed me, I would sit ruing the fact that, once again, I had not done anything productive. Then I would mentally beat myself down for…

Sorry, that cycle again. As you can see, I am finding it very hard to break it.

The last few days or so, though, apart from being ill and not being able to get to the gym, I have been surprisingly chipper. For me, Bunbury Magazine is the thing I want to, amongst others related to it. It’s my baby. I genuinely love to make this publication, even though it makes no money and actually, sometimes costs money. I want to take it further this year. I want it to be something I can make a living from – sorry, Keri and I can make a living from, so we can fully invest our time and energy into it. I figure that can only make it better. The more time we have for it, the more focussed on it we will be, and the sharper it will become. The sharper it becomes, the more successful it will be, giving us more time to focus on it to make it even sharper, which will make it even more successful and so on.

That is the cycle I want to be trapped in. One where my energy isn’t being wasted and zapped watching repeats of Mock the f**king Week.

As I said, today has been a good sort of day. It didn’t start off too well. I could not sleep at all last night. My eyes were pinned open as soon as my head hit the pillow, staring at the shifting shadows on the ceiling. (I have been a little paranoid about our bedroom ever since Keri told me that sometimes there is a ghostly man who sometimes stands in our bedroom doorway. Apparently he doesn’t do anything and he isn’t malevolent. I don’t even believe he exists to be perfectly honest but the idea freaks me out a little. I have a very over-active imagination. I don’t think this was the reason I couldn’t sleep by the way. Just a little aside.) After an hour of shifting and trying to force myself asleep, I finally got up and started doing some work on the magazine. At the moment, I am putting a business plan together and building a new website for us. Trying to make things look even more professional. I spent a good four hours or so working away before having a little break to play some Minecraft. Before I realised, it was 9am. I crawled my way up to bed, now blissfully tired. I was gone before I took my socks off and slept until midday.

Usually, sleeping in this late would put me back into the bad cycle of ruing wasting the day. However, I felt quite proud of the work I had done overnight and threw myself right back into it. The only stumbling block I came across was not being able to put some sodding pie-charts together. I am not very technologically-gifted, that has to be said. I started trying to do them at about 4pm and, as of yet, have still not cracked it. I’m imagining by the time I have figured it out, the internet will not exist in its current form and we’ll all be on smart glass like off of I’m Mr The Iron Man.

I think doing this and doing my poem-a-day challenge has started to spark something back in me again. This one has not been particularly funny today – I don’t know if any previous ones have been really! I just needed to get a few things off my chest. Here is a poem.

He watches, beagle-eyed

as spats of grease roll off the

leathery-pink curls and onto

off-white ceramic.

The browned muffin concaves in the middle

with the heat from the perfectly cooked bacon,

which slightly overlaps the bread and

fills it with purpose.

The bacon sandwich.

A symbol of everything a struggling

society needs to bring a little light

into the dark.

Truly a fitting meal for someone so

wholly suitable to lead a struggling

society into the light

from the dark.

And here our champion is,

taking the bacon sandwich into his

strong, chiselled hands.

He takes that well-deserved

first bite and…

I think we may have backed

the wrong horse here.

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