One writing hack is to read something by someone you admire, before going about writing. Today, I went on my morning pages right after reading “The Tempest“, one of Shakespeare’s most lyrical plays. Here’s the outcome…:
[I’m] On a flight back from a well needed vacation in the Caribbean, the first, in a long time, which got me to an almost complete relaxation. I got my sleep deprivation sattled, feel refreshed and recharged, ready to a new adventure. And a new adventure is right by the corner, hopefully this week its nature I will uncover. Writing prosaically, a Shakespeare influence it must be, hence can settle the battle between writing and reading. My mind craves the taste of a good book, but bloated from the execive thoughts it has absorebed, with way not to let them out.
Such fun it is to write this way, encrypting my thoughts, the key to which known to only me.
What’s in me, but a storm? I can’t make my mind if I’m an owner or under someone else’s power. I want to make some of my own, yet can’t commit for the sum with which it comes.
I like this muse, it makes me flow, it make my mind fly, sing and play. Lots of serious business to consider, but I’m going to let my heart take the final decision.
Here, here, for a fun afternoon astir.