“Hmm”, he thought, regarding the empty textfile on the computer screen with a frown of furious frustration and futile fiendishness. “This empty white sheet of a textfile of shining untouchedness vividly puts me in mind of virgin snowfields, still innocent of footprints or any other signs of human presence. Surely to write upon it would be to mercilessly deflower its’ beauty and to bereave it of infinite possibilities only an empty document unsoiled with words can hold. Therefore I must cast aside all these guilt-ridden visions of a blog that has insistently remained unupdated for the past three weeks. I must admire the integrity of this pure whiteness and relinquish all thoughts of Writing With Intent. I must withdraw my fingertips from the nearness of a keyboard and I most definitely must stop referring to myself in third person for therein madness lies, amongst countless other undesirable developments and complications.”

Thus he thought, and generally failed to act upon these thoughts almost completely. Feverishly tapping away in a frenzy of outpouring words was he, gripped by inspiration in a tender stranglehold, fully utilising his own more sophisticated version of a touch typing technique where the eyes seldom break visual contact with the keypad and both index fingers are used to the absolute max, producing whole words in a matter of mere minutes, cunningly leaving the remaining eight digits of his hands to gather strenght for other purposes.

“Hmm”, he thought again after a while, thoughtfully. “I still haven’t stopped referring to myself in third person. What now? If one were to switch to first-person narrative all of a sudden would one risk losing the plot altogether and perhaps become an unreliable narrator? And would it really matter since one is the sole and only character in this? And isn’t it a stride further down the path towards madness to, when talking about myself,  replace “him” with “one”, an expression traditionally reserved for inbred monarchs on the brink, for cross-eyed kings of times gone by with their crowns tilted in peculiar angle upon their heads? One thinks one’s grandeur is splendidly magnificent and one’s scepter is almightily omnipotent?”

“No,better not start messing  with different kinds of narratives at this point”, he concluded, in a thoughtful manner, with a bit of a royal flourish to it, or so he fancied. “Although the innocent whiteness may now but a fleeting memory be, despair not, for the blog actually seems to be in for a new entry, and thus the guilt of not updating will diminish for the time being, and here’s a picture of Mad King Lear. And a link to a collection of biographies of various mad monarchs.



Actually I set out to write about very different and a lot more serious things altogether. There’s been a major change in my life recently and I wanted to put down some thoughts about it, but this is how the writing seems to have turned out for now. I’ll tone down the silliness factor on the next post if possible.