Mumble Stew & 'Dumb'plings!

Hampered had my life became for sometime after writing a collection of continuous short essays late at night once to often, had drove me for answers that still seemed as blank as the screen I began on. For a while now I have been writing a lot of material with a sociology/psychology content, steered toward a self preservation direction, with no real reason as to why. But with a steady manifesting pile of cluttered paragraphs of text it now seems apparent that I was maybe offloading a heavy mind that within a short time had sufficed in doing so. Not knowing whether I was in the process of becoming a budding young author or just learning to type quickly! The basic drive was due to having many thoughts scattered inside my brain in need of realise or even digestion perhaps. Hitting away at the keys of my computer was actually helping and even felt easy at some points not being able to type quick enough but I reached an unwanted stalemate, for it had only now transcended to a lose pile of printed paper on the bedroom floor, as opposed to a cloudy think tank the confusion just no longer was in my head but was now in some sort of order on paper. It highly resembled a disorganised novel, Chapters if you will. I felt unable to place appropriately these thoughts or pieces of work together and bring reason to this overspill of brainwork. But my underlying questions were in fact proving themselves dividend and rather simple, for the ‘How, who, why, when and what to everything’ was bringing out the answers itself…

To alliterate, my first assay I wrote was called Yellow brick Road. The gist of this piece in particular, if anything a hope that there’s more to the mundane movement of the every day members of the common sheep outside my window with bowed heads that just follow the flow of society. I despised the way our lives seem so doctrine and the continuous general ignorance that allowed it to occur.