On Sunday I told Belle Fierce that there was enough shit in the world we don’t need to go looking for it. In and around the same time I realised I have to stop writing shit too. If only because like Sam Seaborn “I might want to do this for real some day”… And I can’t ask
my would be/ could be audience to take me and my musings seriously if I present myself as less than I could be.
I need to stop bemoaning my life and I need to find the courage I once had to write about the things that matter to me. Why anyone should care about this, or any of my writing, is the type of existential question I’m sick of asking myself and fudging the answer.
So to hangers on ( may only be you GD) thank you: I apologise for wasting your time…
I vow to write again but until the words reach beyond the mind-numbing minutiae of work moans and mundanity: my blog will remain entry.
If I’ve nothing of worth to say I will stay silent.