When not in a hurry I like to watch the deep flavour seep from the bag and swirl into the steaming water, curling around itself before fading into a community of fellow mahogany swirls dancing around it. Brewing a cup of tea isn't just a part of your daily routine, it's an art which can only be perfected by practice and not by the hurried swoop of a teaspoon into the mug to retrieve the tea bag before its time is up.
In case you hadn't already realised, I am a tea addict.
Again, I have stumbled away from my track of thought onto a completely new path. I apologise, reader, I am not used to blogging and this is likely to occur often.
As you now can tell, my day has been the definition of bland. The heat is stifling, the sort of heat which makes the air seem thick and sticky and each breath is like breathing in treacle. I spent the majority of my day sat on a small sofa at the far corner of my living room on my laptop with Microsoft Word open; the feeling of a cursor blinking back at you from a blank word document is unnerving and I have not enjoyed it in the slightest. My novel is going nowhere. I've currently written:
“Lizzy.”
“Dad, call me Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth.”
Awful, isn't it?
That isn't the beginning, middle, nor end of my novel. I did not start at the beginning, I did not dare skip pointless introductions and dive in at the deep end and I did not want to bury a story which has only just blossomed in my mind. Therefore, those lines are floating somewhere in the maybe of my novel and do not yet have a place to call home.
For some reason, however, I have grown attached to those three line. Why, you may ask? There's something about how normal those lines are which make them so complex. Why is Elizabeth, evidently the daughter in this situation, telling her dad to call her Elizabeth rather than a shortened name he has decided to use for her? Is it because she is uncomfortable with it, or is it something deeper? Additionally, why was her line an order and not a question.
"Dad, could you call me Elizabeth instead?"
Not as powerful, is it? See, only I know why she has asked him to do so. You may read this and guess a thousand possibilities but there is only one, and only the writer knows it thus far. That's what is so beautiful about those lines. They could mean anything.
Other than fret over my ridiculously bad start to my novel, i've done not much else but eat and breathe. Eating and breathing are nice things to do though so i'm not complaining. Tomorrow will provide me with a lot more to blog about as I am meeting up with my favourite girls to exchange hugs, kind words and smiles. Oh and to eat more. Food is necessary in every human's life, however in mine it seems to mean a lot more than just a necessity.
On the subject of smiles, I have not yet experienced my true smile today. I almost did earlier whilst I was lay on the carpet of my room (it is a lot cooler down there, don't judge me) cuddling my favourite stuffed animal (again, please don't judge me, Hamish is the most comforting object I own) and I was feeling rather alone. I have these 'lonely spells' within which I like to cry a lot or mumble to myself. As I was having one of these, I lay sideways on my carpet and realised how odd and different everything I was used to about my bedroom looked from that angle. I almost had a true smile at that. I just found it slightly uncomfortable yet strangely exciting to see somewhere I am so used to from a different persepective.
I realise I have rambled on now for an extraordinarily long amount of time. I know, I should really post a blog post in the evening or at night after I have given a full day the chance to present itself with something exciting, however I am bored and this will relieve me from my boredom.
Enjoy the rest of your afternoon and evening,
Ayesha x
P.S. I've been listening to this song non-stop today and something about it, whilst being calming and soothing, works me up slightly and makes me frightened. That is why I love it so much. Give it a listen.
