I started this blog,
as a challenge to myself to write and write regularly.
After a short time, I found myself effectively in the writing profession of the dubiously named Communications. Yes, I get to write for a variety of audiences, for a variety of masters. I write other people’s messages, often ending up using other people’s words. There is little freedom or satisfaction in this. In fact it is pretty soulless.
I had promised myself that, even when the days were dark that I would try not to complain about anyone on my blog. I never wanted to have someone read my words, often used for humour and be hurt by what would be my thoughtlessness. I didn’t mind if I offended as we are all entitled to our opinion.
Now I find myself needing to write but much of what I want to write is driven from a place of frustration, of exhaustion, of disillusionment, of world weariness. I can’t do that without the freedom of writing for myself, not my little audience here. Besides I want to be over dramatic, despairing and wallow in my list of sighs.
So I will, I might, maybe will post again here with my funny stories but before you know it you won’t even miss me.
So don’t wait around.