Seeing as I enjoy Sunday Scribblings so much, I thought I'd try and do some more free writing - for days when I have nothing to really blog about. Like today. Yep.

So I googled.

And I came up with several good sites, but I think I'll be using this one. It's called Writing Fix and basically just comes up with random writing topics every day. At least, every other day. I won't use them daily, just when I'm feeling particularly boring.

I'm loving the random prompt generator! Fun! And you can also just keep clicking if you don't like the prompt you're given -- not that anyone would cheat like that, of course.

((crickets chirp))

So. Here's my first shot at this one, for today.

"What goes in your message for a bottle?  Write a letter to the world (or to whoever finds it) that you might place in a bottle and throw into the ocean.  Ask yourself what you might have to say to a total stranger..."

Dear Person-Who-Finds-This-Bottle,

Instead of writing a letter, I could ask you many questions. I could ask you where you are right now. I could ask you where you found this bottle. I could ask you what it was that came into your head to pick up this dirty old bottle (for surely after months at sea, it has had some wear and tear). I could ask you why you thought to look inside it, because really, does ANYONE actually look for letters in bottles these days? I could ask you who are you, what do you do, are you male or female, are you a dreamer?

I could even ask you to write back -- although I'm not too sure that I'd receive your reply, seeing as I am not enclosing a postal address. Perhaps you could just will your reply to the seas, or however you choose to send your message in a bottle, and if it's meant to be I will somehow find it.

Well. Now that I look back, I can see I already have asked you many questions. And told you quite little (well, nothing in all honesty) about myself. Here's another question for you; why am I writing this letter?

I am feeling lonely. Suffice it to say that out of the people I know, the people I love, at this moment in time I do not wish to write a letter to any of them. Perhaps it is because they know me too well, perhaps because they know me too little. Perhaps they would judge me when they read my words on paper. Perhaps you will do the same.

It is much easier to share your secrets with people who cannot respond, who cannot pass their condescending looks your way. People who cannot pretend to understand, pretend to give their sympathy when in reality, they just don't care. Maybe that's why parents mutter secrets to their children when they are mere babies - in their newborns they have an unconditional confidante.

What a long-winded letter. I do apologise. Even in words, I tend to ramble. Why is being honest always so hard? Why is it that even now, I cannot seem to find the words to share my innermost thoughts, my biggest fears with you? Why is it that even though I can not will myself to put pen to paper when it comes to my secrets, my thoughts and desires, that I ultimately feel better already? How powerful communication is, even when it is not returned.

So now I will hasten to finish this letter so that I can roll it up, place it in a sealed old bottle, and discard into the ocean. Dear reader, here is another secret for you; I don't even live near the ocean. How this letter reaches the sea, I do not yet know. Only time will tell.

I must thankyou before I cease writing. Thankyou for being my confidante. Thankyou for reading this far. Thankyou for caring, or not caring, whatever the outcome may be. Thankyou for fishing my thoughts out of the swirling mass that is my consciousness, and for giving me peace, if only for a few minutes. I will always appreciate it.

Yours,

Aly.