The Writer

The chilly night air bites my body like some sort of venomous creature. I do not speak. Only because I feel the undisturbed silence need not any commentary. The moon wades across the starry night sky and I look down at my lap, my notebook lies opened. I look around for some form of inspiration. A sentence. A word. A syllable. My mind goes blank and I cannot think. I dive into the sea of my conscience imagination but nothing is to be found. I struggle to open the door in my mind which will allow my pen to form words. The chilly night air dissipates as my hands and face go numb, as if an anaesthetic had been applied to the nerves under my skin.

I look upwards towards the sky as cold white pearls fall on my face, a snowy night in winter – a window into the cosmos. A magnificent sight for a writer, usually bringing with it inspiration in abundance. I take a deep breath and write something in the notebook. I score it out. My fingers run along the leather back of the book as if to rid them of the numb feeling. I grasp my pen once more and begin writing; my mind focuses on breaking this spell of unwritten dialogue. I finish a sentence before studying it thoroughly, it makes little sense. My mind overlooks this and I continue writing…

An hour has passed since I sat down on this park bench and not one person has passed by, all wildlife seems still and quite. Something catches my eye, a leaf falling from its precarious branch; it parachutes down slowly and lands swiftly on the snow dusted floor. I look back to my notebook, pen touches paper, ink starts forming words and then sentences, a paragraph starts to take place and I start to fill the page. A noise breaks my train of thought and I look sharply up. Thunder strikes the ground and I stare at the spark reaching downwards from the sky. The light enters my vision and hits my retina as the sound crashes against my eardrums. Finally, an inspirational scene. I write furiously as words spill out of my brain and drown my page in a flurry.

I finish page one and look back up at the sky. An endless, infinite pool of stars, galaxies and points of light all releasing radiation and energy, gradually decaying into a dense, cool ball of matter; much like an amateur writer’s career. You invest all your money in something you hope will happen and if it doesn’t, your career will gradually come to a halt and you’ll be left with an empty book and an empty pocket. If your dreams don’t come through you’ll be metaphorically hanged. The novelists’ noose.

My eyes become heavy and I slouch on the park bench, I stare blankly at my booklet and remember my childhood dreams about being in a room with pen in hand, hundreds of pages filled with syllables depicting heroic characters and enthralling tales. My reality – however – is that of an unfulfilled nature; unfulfilled books and dreams. My aspirations lie in a pile in front of me, in a mess, like the snow in front of me. I’ve had the same notebook for over four years and I’ve hardly written a quarter of that. I fight my own mind until some sort of story appears; it’s like trying to solve a Rubik’s Cube that keeps fighting back and I’m winning. I begin to write again and my palms begin to sweat, gradually melting away the snowy blanket covering my hands.

My book begins to fill and slowly a story emerges and fills the pages. This is far from a masterpiece but it’s something. Writing takes time and patience, and I’ve been waiting many years for a break so patience isn’t a problem, the problem is the never-ending writer’s block, staring blankly at my paper as if that will do anything. My work consists of scrap paper, scribbled out words; empty lines all adding up to create an unwritten vortex of entropy.

I look around the white landscape that surrounds me but not for any inspiration this time. I look simply for the sake of looking, the environment that comes with a still winter’s night is magnificent and the silence really adds to the effect. An unbroken sheet of snow lays flat on the ground, layer upon layer covering the pavements and grass in a perfect white desert made up of billions of constituent crystals. Pearls of solid water compacted to make a white sea as far as the eye can see.

My mind has wandered from my priority, to end the night with at least a decent attempt at a book. I close my eyes before cracking my knuckles – my unfortunate habit – allowing the popping noise to free my hands of the stiff feeling. I take a look at the old clock stood high on the tower of the church at the corner of the street; it reads one o’clock in the morning. I have overstayed my welcome yet again and little work has been accomplished, I should get back home. Yet I remain seated.

The chilly night air bites my body like some sort of venomous creature. I do not speak. Only because I feel the undisturbed silence need not any commentary. The moon wades across the starry night sky and I look down at my lap, my notebook lies opened. I look around for some form of inspiration. A sentence. A word. A syllable.

First Entry – Time Travel. 17th January 2015

Well here I go. The first entry in my first blog, rather exciting isn’t it?

Before I go forth into the land of blogging and delve deep into my mind to share my philosophical and profound ideas and thoughts, I thought I’d give you all an insight into my wonderful and extremely interesting (note the sarcasm, it’s not all that interesting) world.

My name is Liam Alexander Gray and I’m eighteen years old at the time of typing this up. I live in Scotland with my Dad and I have many interests which I will share in later posts. One of my interests is Science, mainly Cosmology and Physics. Physics will be the focus of today’s posts…

Time travel, a subject many would place in a Science Fiction category along with Warp Drives and lightsabers. I am a massive fan of time travel and I would like to think that there are time travellers around. It’s the same as aliens, although I’ve never seen one, I still really believe such a thing exists. The following questions and ramblings are recollections from my thoughts early in the morning whilst I was in the shower – the place where most profound thoughts are conjured up, I’m sure.

The first question that popped into my mind was “How could there be time travellers from the future, if the future hasn’t happened?” This lead me to some deep thought. I was thinking “Well if we had time machines right now and went back to say the 14th June 1675, and told people where we were from, they would not understand because 2015 hadn’t happened yet. Maybe that’s what we experience when someone says they’re a time traveller. Maybe the year 3620 has already happened and we’re simply in 2015 in the universal (multiple universal) timeline.”

I then thought of parallel universes. Perhaps every time period, every slice of 4 seconds, every hour, every 0.0000003 seconds since the universe began – and possibly before that – is being repeated an infinite number of times in an infinite number of parallel universes. It could be the case that there’s a universe identical to our’s but it’s 3 seconds behind. There could be a universe identical to our’s but it’s only 200 A.D so far. When you put it like that, it becomes possible to imagine that there are universes that are further along the timeline, in the future. Maybe time travel involves moving through parallel universes.

So say you do plop ’14th June 1675′ into your time machine and beep boop boop… whoooooosh, off you go… What happens to you in the universe you left? Does time magically stop or are people phoning you up and you’re not answering, have you disappeared completely? Is your Mum or Dad walking into your room to see that you’ve vanished? This is a question no movies address as far as I’m aware and that annoys me. Obviously directors don’t know the inner-workings of time travel but my pedantic mind goes “Hold on, he was just with his friends and now he’s in the 70’s, what do his friends see?”

Also, how long does is take to go back in time? That sounds like one of those clever puns doesn’t it? Yet I’m being serious. Imagine it, you have just bought your brand new Time-o-matic 2000 in the year 2115 and you want to go back in time 100 years to tell me the intricacies of time travel before I post this… would you have to sit in your time machine as 100 years goes by, but in reverse? Or would it by instantaneous? These are the questions my mind is plagued by, people!

It was at this point that I exited the shower…

I would appreciate replies and discussion. I am not a scientist so if I’ve said something wildly incorrect, please find a way to tell me without being a Satan-spawn of aggressive hatred.