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.
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