Outside the Maze of Social Media…

 

The Maze

 

Goodness, Twitter’s layout change really threw me for a loop. I guess it’s telling that I didn’t even have an inkling that a changeover was in the works.

And I’m not even as experienced at Twitter as I wish I was, so I was perplexed as to why the change hit me so hard.

I’m not going to wax philosophical over a social media platform, but I’m also a oddly, incredibly sad about the change. And I feel a little displaced from that part of the internet world.

Maybe it’s the fact that social media has become such a staple of our lives that when it changes, it’s like losing a best friend. And maybe that’s even sadder.

Naturally, the designers have every right to change the layout of their social media program any way they want. And there’s some out there who are embracing the change.

But once I got over the initial shock of losing my purpley font and fun Twitter background, I felt relief.

“Thank goodness I don’t have to get lost in that part of the social media maze anymore,” I thought next.

I wanted to delete my Twitter account straightaway (I didn’t!), but I did tweet that I would probably be taking a sabbatical for the time being.

I just don’t have the energy to renavigate Twitter all over again.

I would certainly miss posts from the people I follow, but I consoled myself with the thought they could stop by here and say hi. And, since I didn’t delete my account, I could always peek in from time to time to keep up with them.

But, you know, I have a life. It may be very, very far from the life I want, still, but this intense transition period I’m in is definitely keeping me busy while I try to get everything sorted.

Heck, the number of short story and poetry submission deadlines alone are enough to fill the Twitterverse void.

Not to mention trying to sort out my employment situation, or where I’m going to live (or emigrate to) in hopes of climbing out of this tumultuous storm into a more stable existence. Or, at the very least, a more fulfilling one.

Which is why I don’t have time to weather the storms of change in social media. When everything’s in upheaval, you really want some things to keep on being a safe harbor.

But, then, quixotically, social media isn’t really a safe harbor in many ways. Especially for those of a diverse nature in regards to gender, et al.

It is a platform where the president of the United States will doggedly continue to tweet all of his garbage and nonsense, after all. (Long live #FakeNews! *laugh*)

So, maybe I’m in better company without the distractions of the Twitterverse, generally speaking.

And, earlier today, I wrote the first draft of a story for Fantasia Divinity Magazine’s Isolation theme.

Now, I’m catching up by writing this intended blog entry, based on my visual prompt I started earlier.

And I don’t feel so alone, anymore.

(And, maybe, just maybe, #SnailMail will start trending again!)

Where to Write? (Location, Location, Location)

 

Have pen, will travel...
#amwriting

I’ve been a little at loose ends. Scattered and off-kilter.

But I’ve been discovering that wandering around with that “lost-between-worlds” feeling is a staple for me as an emerging writer.

But back in the real world, I’m having to look for a new locale. 

I miss the the ocean. Lush forests. I even miss the swamps of my home state. But economics, of course, are playing a large role in the quest.

Even though my search has to be practical, I still like dreaming over the maybe-someday homes at Old House Dreams. (Who could resist this one that lends itself to a horror writer persona? https://www.oldhousedreams.com/2019/06/05/c-1940-log-deerbrook-wi/)

Location, to me, has evolved to be an essential part of my creative life. (Perhaps it always was but I wasn’t paying attention in the drive to be somebody; anybody.) I draw inspiration from my locale. From the atmosphere I’m in. I’ve heard other writers have their favourite places they go to seek creative nourishment. Some write in noisy cafes, some seek out solitude, others, well, I’d be interested to know what your go-to places are to write, to refresh, to find that next great idea.

Share in the comments, if you like.

 

Of the Heart of the Storm

Of the Heart of the Storm

Madness swirls, here

this world of paradox and confusion

where ravens are kind, and

promise redemption.

On their wings, I fly into the eye

of my storm, where 

in ice and shadows and all things secret,

your light softly shines,

bringing me home

for the last time.

 –Willow Croft

 

LighthouseBeachView1
Egmont Key Lighthouse (Photo Copyright by Willow Croft 2018)

 

 

Ghost Stories?

 

So, as if I don’t have enough to do, I’ve been hit by the inspiration muse for my next book of poetry. At least for the overarching theme of it (like how galaxies/alternate dimensions/astrophysics/time travel was for the last book). I was thinking maybe the paranormal/unexplained/ghosts, but have the poems revolve around lost people/opportunities, especially since I have been pretty chimerical throughout my life, and a lot got jettisoned and left behind in the wake.

“I liked you the way you were. I liked your walls. I liked being the one to bring them down.” Hook, Once Upon a Time

Here’s a sample one:

The Secret Life of a Chimera

I admit,

you were one of the ones

I had little regret about

and didn’t count you

among my secrets-to-the-grave.

There was zero nostalgia there

except maybe that time

we went to another dimension

with the help of…synthpop, was it?

Whatever it was, it was a beautiful step

out of time, on that Vermont road

clean and pure and transcendental as ice

that, luckily, wasn’t also on the road.

That’s how I remember you.

I will never admit that I think about

the play you wrote that saw the

me no-one else did.

But last night, out of nowhere,

out of years bygone,

I dreamed of you,

pineapple bright,

with a unicorn heart

full of rainbow love, just for me.

And I let you hold me, prickly pineapples

and prickly me and all.

I don’t know what was more confusing

that I let you in, or that I let you go.

And I wished another impossible wish

(they’re the only kind I’m allowed)

that you were the one to break down my walls.

 

–Willow Croft