A break for freedom

Here's an admission. By in large, I don't like what I write. I wrestle for days, sometimes weeks with a piece, and to me it still comes out like shite. My flatmates are driven mad at least once a month by my torment.

It's like there's a prisoner inside me rattling at the bars... and rattling... and rattling... and rattling... being able only to pine and dream of what the outside world might be like.

So, enough of this bullshit. It's time for a new approach to such things. I'll let you know how it goes - or maybe you'll just be able to tell. A little trust in the process, okay here we go...