Ironically I haven’t done a whole lot of
writing lately so this prompt couldn’t have come at a better time for me. A few of you have wondered if I dropped off
the world. In a way I did. My computer decided to die a slow and
agonizing death and then money wise, May was a bad month in my neck of the
woods. Money was short. It became a little more important to pay for
food and the house payment than post here.
Since then I toyed with the idea of
simply deleting my blog. The question of
why I write flew around my noggin like loose marbles. I don’t write because I have any ideas that I
am the next Danielle Steel waiting to be discovered. I never had a burning desire growing up to publish
something someday. However, I love the
community of friendly bloggers I discovered.
I love the interaction. I also love
the opportunity to vent and let my imagination run wild. Let’s face it, I can be right down bat shit
crazy and writing is a great vehicle to express and nurture that tendency.
So in a nutshell, I need a vehicle to express myself and writing provides that with no holds barred. It is safe. I can be me without people wondering why. Correction, I can be me and not see the amused disapproving glances shot my way. It is perfectly acceptable to go ape shit here and laugh until I pee my pants. On second thought, I kind of do that everywhere and in every situation anyway because I am skipping through mental pause and am half past give a shit. I just have a place to document it here. It doesn’t matter where I go I always notice how pious everyone else is. People walk around looking like they just sucked a lemon or have a broom stuck up their ass sideways. I am the crazy one that smiles at people I don’t know and am not afraid to laugh in public. So why write? I write to express myself, to vent, to connect with the outside world, and for the hell of it.
