My earliest and proudest memories of myself are of me writing. The very act of coaxing words out of my mind or heart or wherever words happen to reside and arranging them in some meaningful order on a page (or screen) always filled me with confidence and indescribable satisfaction. Often, however, upon revisiting my writing, I would writhe in acute embarrassment- my writing was, in my opinion, appalling and amateurish. Certainly not worthy of publication, even to my nearest and dearest.
But, in recent times, and ever so gradually, I am becoming increasingly, flagrantly apathetic: I am caring less and less about what people may think; more 'frankly-my-dear-I-dont-give-a-damn'.
So, I've decided to publish to my blog some of my writing, over time of course, because I did say gradually.
** ** **
Have you ever walked in someone else's shoes?
Or put on their overcoat
Waiving wall-papered mores from a civilized youth?
And when the raw, stripped walls scorn and scoff
In hushed response,
Do you regret your parade? Do you yearn to undress?
Alas, she has, she did, she does.
