The Ones That Got Away

As we've already discussed, I'm rather fond of notebooks and carry one around with me most of the time. This is so that I can fool myself into thinking that I may actually write something at some point. Sometimes it actually works. However, those occasions upon which my brain generally decides to play along always happen to be those times when pen and notebook are nowhere to be seen.

I'll be happily wandering along the road or sitting on the train/bus/tube/irritating method of public transport of my choice when, all of sudden, that thing happens. You know the one. A something in your head collides with another something in your head and the idea starts to form. The inner voice begins to speak. The monologue or dialogue commences. And you think, "Yeah, this will be good. What a fascinating insight into whatever it is that the subject of the thing is going to be about. Top banana. I should write this one d- Oh, I don't have a pen or anything to write on. OK, I'll just remember really hard. Come on, brain, remember the things. Remember the stuff. Remember that bit that was wryly amusing and painted you in a terribly witty light. Remember. Reeeemeeeemmmmbebbeeerrrrrr."

And then I stop to cross the road or get off the train/bus/tube/irritating method of public transport of my choice. A new song comes into the brain via the ears. The brain shifts track and settles into a new tangent. Probably about what to have to lunch. Or if I did actually remember to send that email last night. And so, the something disengages from the something else and the idea is no more.

I lose more blogs that way.