At least I don't have the rockin' pneumonia and the boogey woogey blues, right? Well, I survived Christmas. It was worth it. I am going to try a little bit harder next year though. I'm not as wore out as I was during the Thanksgiving week. What a blessing. I love dog sitting, but it can be too much for me with work, my pets, incorporating somewhat of a social life. It's pure madness.
The beginning of this blog post is such a cheat. I mean, I should update you, I take stock in what other's opinions are. This is human, and you're human, right? If you aren't, I do not hold this against you. (RObot.) I think that I live in an imaginary world I have created. Most of the time I see the words I type but it's usually edited down so much because I'm afraid of the judgement. Too watered down to a point the effort feels futile. Or posting a blog that's truly half-assed. Even when most of the time if someone comments on the fact I write in a dark way, it hurts me. I suppose I just don't see myself as dark. I see myself as a realist. I see myself craving more support rather than what I might be doing wrong, and especially when it's someone else's opinion. I want to cut it out. (It could also stem from living with an verbally abusive ex-spouse, and suffering consequences from an ex-spouse who didn't want me to outshine them. ) (This kind of living, is conducive to a divorce.)
SO SUPPORT EACH OTHER FOR GOODNESS SAKE.
I already can hear criticism. When this is my creative outlet. My output. Creatively, this is difficult. Difficult? Yes, difficult because it's me. Because it's mine. This is my footprint. I wander. Er, I wonder. There's too much stuck in my head, but not enough time to let it out.
I suppose this is why I don't have writer's block. Ever.
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