Vijaya Sundaram

Poet, Musician, Teacher, and Amateur Visual Artist

Purple Prose-Bending

This was my first post on this blog a year ago.

Around this time last year, I was in the process of letting go of the shackles of being a school-teacher, and leaving the profession in order to spend more time with my family, dog, and myself, and in order to write.

The first couple of months that I began this blog (June and July) were not great blogging months, and neither was August, but come September, and I began blogging more and more. Around January, I resolved to have at least 365 posts to average out over my first year of blogging on StrangeLander2015 (aka magicsurrealist2013.me). This meant I needed to write more than a couple of blog posts every day, which I began doing from March 2016 onwards.

I’ve made a total of 384 posts during these past twelve months. Now, I can heave a sigh of relief, and blog in a less frenetic fashion – or not!  Hah!  This blogging thing can be a serious addiction.  Actually, for me, it’s a sense of urgency.  I haven’t put my work out in the world since I was a teenager, even though I’ve written forever.  Next, I’ll aim to publish my work in a non-digital format.

Thank you to all those who have been my readers and commentators, and those who’ve followed, and been supportive.

Thank you, @WordPress!

Yours,
Dreamer of Dreams

Bad Writing Day

Today was a bad writing day.

So bad, that when I wrote a poem with the title “A Bad Writing Day,” the damned poem disappeared after I saved it.  I searched everywhere.  It’s hiding somewhere among the pixels.

So, in effect, I wrote my “poem a day” for April Poetry Writing Month today, — and it ran away from me from embarrassment.

Now what? 

A cop-out, that’s what.  I dug up an old one, and stuck it in my blog (the post just before this one in terms of chronology).

Hey, at least I know I wrote my poem today – even if it did disappear!

So, that should salve my conscience, right?

Actually, even if I had posted it, I’d have been so mad at myself for such a bad poem that I would not have been able to look myself in the eye for quite a while.

Some days are good poem days, and other days are bad poem days (sort of like “good and bad hair days.” ) 

Ultimately, it all depends on the weather, and how much sleep you had.

So, I’m off to get mine — sleep, that is.  (And perhaps tomorrow, perhaps on Sunday, I’ll  make up for today’s lack by writing two poems.

Well, goodnight, dear blog and bloggers!

Dreamers of Dreams