Rescued Cliche

I managed to salvage the Tarantella story from the old hard drive. Sometimes you think you have a wonderful opening and invariably it gets changed before you're finished. It is almost as if the parts of your own writing you love have to excised from the script - if you love something set it free. Reviewing the 'great' piece whose loss I was traumatised by it now seems it may be a little cliched. Fortunately, it is the voice of the narrator not the author, so it may, just may betray some character if it remains. See what you think:

"The problem with the 21st century is that everything has already been done. Every procession of notes, or arrangement of proteins, has been sequenced and synthesised, protected and patented, purloined and pirated. Every nook has been explored, every people exploited. Each resource has been near exhausted, every species has been near extinct. In short, there is nothing new under the sun."

It is good to be writing again. It seems so fleeting the time I get to do it these days. But I still feel the restless yearning building inside me to go through the pains of creation. Nothing satisfies it like a blank page filled with crafted text. I'd love to be a musician or a painter, even photography is good. But as much as I'm sure I could and can. The time isn't there and frankly they don't hit the spot.