The story of the mind

I let the rain wash over me. wash through me. Cleansing every inch of my spirit. For the first time ever I felt like I was in touch with my inner self. Nothing else around me mattered. No fears. No thoughts. Just being one, a presence within the world. It was then I knew I was ready. I could face it now. I no longer heard the screaming. No longer saw the wounded. All I heard was my own breath and the beating of my heart from within. I heaved myself up over the top. I was ready to meet my maker. I raised my weapon, screamed an almighty battle cry and ran out through the smoke and remains of my fellow companions. It was one hell of a leap of faith but it had only two outcomes. either I died or they did. (start of a story that popped into my head today)


I have these momentary boosts of creative writing ideas quite often, I just struggle to remember them next time I'm sat at a keyboard! Fortunately I was sat in front of one this time. I really enjoy creative writing and I am fortunate enough to find writing the beginnings stories quite easily. I find writing the next chapter or next few pages the difficult part.  I end up writing 5 different starts for 5 different stories, never finishing them. In a way I quite like this as the stories could go in any direction. I write for fun, expression and as a peaceful hobby. This was one such story that came to mind when listening to music earlier today so I thought I'd post it for everyone to see to get a little bit of feedback, if anyone actually reads these! Feel free to post your own stories and thoughts as well.

This got me thinking about how wonderful and brilliant our brains really are. We are all capable of moulding and manipulating a story and plot in our heads either through words or images generated by our own minds. Its bonkers to think of the amount of content we produce a day. The amount of things we process and see all neatly tucked away in their own little brain folder. I find when thinking of a story I can see things from the characters perspective as if they were my own eyes. I can feel the emotions feel his or her pain and understand the relationships that character has. I do this on the bus, in the shower, whilst walking home after teaching is over for the day, even sometimes whilst teaching. All this information gets stored in a temporary brain file. If I don't write it or save it for later I forget and it is sent to the recycle bin of my mind, soon after that the space is filled with some other nonsense.

As I said in my first post, no longer am I sending things to my metaphorical recycle bin, I'm publishing them and I urge you to do the same. Imagine the world we would have if more people shared these thoughts. Imagine the progress we would make if we shared our knowledge and our thoughts more often with the world and imagine that collaborative world. Let us not forget, let us remove the isolation, let us share our knowledge. The future is sharing, and the future starts now.