Two years have passed writing this blog.
I always wanted to be a writer. But although I can put words into a sentence, I cannot WRITE. I am one who writes and yet not a WRITER.
Years writing to an invisible audience has amounted to nothing. I'm still a no one. I'm not interesting or special. I have nothing to say that hasn't been said better by someone else already. But I still write. I write for the same reason that I used to cut myself. It's a constructive way of letting the built up tension flow out of me. These days, without alcohol I have no moments when I am under the Influence and letting my guard down. No moments when I catch myself behaving out of character.
I will continue to spew thoughts and non thoughts out onto this site regardless of readers. They say that no man is an island but I'm not sure I agree.
Mr insignificance. Mr normal. My speciality is that I am not special.
But I am still filled with a desire to share. Something to leave behind just on case one human thinks I am on to something.
I have given up waiting for a person to love me for who I am.
I just want someone to recognise that there is a creative fire deep within that has never been put out.
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