"I have often depended on the blindness of strangers."
- Adrienne E. Gusoff




A friend caught wind that I liked to write, and she stole a piece from an old friend to read. When she was told it was written ages ago, and that I didn’t do as much now, she struck up a conversation about it. This is what went down.

Her: So, you still writing those stories?
Me: You’re a silly, silly person for asking. Shame on you.
Her: That wasn’t a yes or no
Me: Damit. Yes and no.
Her: Do you always dance around a subject?
Just answer the question lol.
Me: Ok, not as much, I just haven’t been writing as much as I used too. I still throw stuff out occasionally, but I keep it too myself.
Her: Why would you stop? You were pretty good back when we were in school, surely you’ve got better?
Me: You’d think, but I don’t see it.
Her: Familiarity breeds contempt.
Besides, you can’t judge your own writing. Create it, edit it and change it, yeah, but you can’t judge. That’s left to your audience.
Me: You may have a point there.
Her: Do you think Da Vinci judged his own works? Stephen King or Tim Burton? No, they all left it to their audience, and stuff they figured was mediocre turned out to be spectacular under other eyes.
Me: Lol, I doubt I’m that good.
Her: You could be if you wanted too. You’ll never know unless you try. What does your audience think
Me: My audience was deviant art, but it’s gone quiet as of late.
Her: That because your audience has vanished, or you
Me: Shush. I don’t know what it is, I guess some would call it a writers block, but that’s pfft. Lack of motivation if I’m honest.
Her: Fair enough, but sometimes we lose motivation to do a lot of things. If we stopped doing them because of that, we wouldn’t have all the wonderful art we have, or all the scientific break through that we’ve experienced. Truck through it.
Me: Yesmiss.
Her: Will you write me something? Something like your old stories, the spooky, plot riddled twisting style stuff. Only new, not an edit or any type of cheat
Me: But I lost my fingers in a terrible accident involving a biro pen, airplane and snowball.
Her: Dictate it to Microsoft Sam.
Me: Spoil sport.
Her: Go on, will you? Say, 10,000 words as soon as? Maybe you’ll catch your motivation during it?
Me: Fine. But if I win, I want a cookie (I want a lot of cookies lately…
Her: Deal. Now piss off and write.

So it is, I’ve been challenged. In my optimistic thoughts, I complete the challenge, create an excellent piece of Lit’ and become a millionaire. In honesty, I lose motivation and it sucks. But I’ve been told I can’t judge, so I guess it’s up to you lot






I’ve not left England for almost seven years. I’m working on getting my own passport, but when I do I need to put it too good use. Who has any idea where I can go, people I can meet or international laws I can break?