Dear Diary


Dear Diary,

The insomnia is back. I’m not sure why and nothing seems to be working to help me fall a sleep. I lay awake, sometimes staring up at the ceiling, other times eyes shut just begging to drift off.

I get up and clean things. I write whatever comes into my head, even though some of it doesn’t make any sense. I read books, until I can’t concentrate. I stargaze if the night sky allows. I try hot baths, pills, hot drinks, mind games, TV shows, I change bedding and sleeping positions. Whatever the advice is I’m doing it.

I’m beyond exhaustion, high on caffeine, just to keep going and surviving.

People think I’m ill and I shrug it off but maybe I am? Have I an illness that is causing the insomnia? I avoid looking it up on the internet – too many misdiagnoses.

It looks like I might have found a help tonight. I’m listening to the sounds of water dripping in a cave. It’s making me feel relaxed and my mind for a change isn’t full of things. I feel sort of floaty….


(Note; currently the only thing that is helping me get to sleep at night is listening to this YouTube video;

Block #TMAT


He had tried everything; morning jogs, early nights, watching people, re-planning. Nothing worked, the muse had left. He lent on the desk, hands gripping his hair, feeling frustrated.

His laptop was waiting for his next words and if he was to scroll back, he would see the result of all his hard work. It wasn’t enough, he hadn’t finished the novel and now he was on his last idea to break the writer’s block.

He picked up a pen and began writing on his notepad. At first, came a flow of his thoughts and feelings then ideas appeared followed by something he could at least try and use. He turned back to his laptop and forced himself back into writing.


(Inspired by; with thanks).

Awaiting The Muse

She was waiting for the muse to come and get her. The sun was warm on her back and the longish grass so nice between her toes. Or at least she imagined it to be so. She couldn’t actually see any grass or sunlight from where she sat in the front room of her house. The sky was gunmetal grey with threating rain and the rest of the view blocked by the large green bush.

She unwrapped another chocolate and put it in her mouth. A burst of orange took her by surprise then she turned her attention back to the urban exploring video she was watching online. A large American man was wondering through an abandoned mountain theme park. She would have been half interested if it didn’t feel as samey as others she had watched.

Switching back to the main computer screen, which displayed a virtual white page she thought about what to write. She was torn by not being in the mood and feeling slightly eager to spill her thoughts onto the page. Her fingers tapped against the keyboard then she waited for the muse to come.