Along the merry way

Saturday 4 October 2014

I’VE BEEN WRITING and not writing here for some eight years. That could well be a record for anything I’ve done or not done. Except breathing, and being some girl that likes horses, neat handwriting and imagining things.

This began as company, when I moved my life to a new place, knowing next to no one and nada. Smoking endless reefers atop my keyboard to relieve the boredom, dreaming up romantic touch typed writerly dreams. Pleasantries tapped out, amusements, experiments – generally lolling about here often times for the lack of anything better to do. And pontificated, or my ego has, scathed and ranted in some perceived justification of whatever my crackled heart yearned for then. At the very least, I hope it can be said that I did so creatively :)

Life is fucken hilarious when you look back, which is just as well. And pretty wonderful too. Aah yes, the joys of feeling and self-expression. Which is why – although many times before now I’ve been tempted to delete this blog, to remove all evidence of some of the seemingly trivial shit my mind and fingers dallied themselves with through much of my fourth decade – I haven’t and am unlikely to. I kind of like it sitting here as a reminder of forever growing up, honing skills, fucking myself up and getting unfucked again along the merry way.

Listening into other peoples’ conversations over a cafe lunch today, I was reminded of how much I used to think I had to say. I don’t have anything particularly poetic, witty or inspired for you just right at this moment, but nevertheless, perhaps I can squeeze out at least another eight xx