So, this is a blog. It's all new to me. I figured I'd just dive right in rather than look at what other people have done here, since my inner voice will kick in and tell me I can't do it as well as everyone else and all my creative juices will pool in the lower recesses of my brain causing me great angst. So, here goes. Be gone inner voice.
Once upon a time, I wrote. A lot. Every day. Poetry. Journals. Essays. Whatever I felt like ranting about. And then life happened. Not the good kind of life. The crappy, kick-you-in-the-stomach-and-stomp-on-your-head-kind-of-life. And the muse left or rather cowered deeply within my soul, like the vulnerable child she is and refused to come out to play. But she's back. And I'm back. And well, here I am writing again.
It feels kind of strange really. This whole cyber world. The ability to put your thoughts out into the cosmos so freely, so easily, at the click of a button. It's a strange sort of vulnerability that creates, to be so exposed. I've always felt that sharing my writing was like lying spread eagle on a bed for all the world to see. So blogging for me is the equivalent of coming out as a porn star. I'm naked, I'm shaved and I'm about to climax. Everybody watch.