It’s late, and I’m thinking.
Dangerous thing, especially for an artist.
These thinking binges normally lead to one of two things – me writing a new play/short story/song lyrics, or overthinking to the point of complete madness. Questioning things that ought not be questioned, pondering dogs that are better left asleep, and overall driving myself insane.
So why a blog?
Well, a while back (quite a while, actually) I did have a blog. But I did not write regularly, and honestly…. the posts were… meh.
I stopped writing, almost altogether. I lost my fire, my passion, my drive.
I stopped for so long that I forgot all the details of my previous blog, and now it is somehow lost to me. But I feel no sadness. I feel like this could be a fresh start for me. New year, new beginnings (avoid clichés like the plague, I know).
I’ve tried keeping a diary, but I could hardly make it through the entry about my friend’s death. I felt like that was the only truly significant event worth writing about. So I stopped.
Now, I don’t care if people think I’m rambling, not making any sense, or don’t like what I’m posting. Now I’m writing for myself. And it feels good!
Now I finally feel ready to extend some of my work and take it to the planks.
I may be a late bloomer, but I’ve got the will and perseverance.