I should wake up earlier

I suppose I fancy myself a writer. I’ve done it for a while in blog form. Then if you count all the years I’ve kept a journal by bed side. Then further back in high school I kept a journal as well. I’ve been writing for the greater part of my life.

I wish I had some of those ones from high school to re-read now all these years later. I remember writing a few things specifically in those journals about how I did not agree with the crowd but it was easier not to say it out loud that I thought they were wrong. I’m still like that to some degree although mainly it’s not that it’s easier not to say the other person is wrong it’s just less of a headache most of the time.

I’ve always found it easier to express how I’m feeling in written words because I can take the time to consider what is said and how it might be received and reword things accordingly. Not to mislead anyone but to make sure that the intent of what I want to say is heard rather than explaining things once they are misunderstood. That is a hard hole to dig back out of, mainly because we, our society as a whole, do not trust anyone. Then to if someone isn’t really willing to listen to what you have to say they certainly are less likely to read anything you’ve written.

My speaking style is similar to my writing style. Which is to say I don’t really have a style of writing or speaking

However, I consider what I say most of the time. As in I’ll pause and actually listen to what the other person is saying. Which sometimes appears that I’m not going to reply because I’m not saying anything right away.

There are times when my tongue has been loosened up by the bourbon or Guinness that things will just come out. Now in those times it’s pretty clear what the meaning is but it’s not always understood in how it’s spoken. Well it’s clear to me while I’m saying it or at least it is in my head.

So I fancy myself a writer, I have a few people who like what I write and probably more than a few which would say STFU invisible don. I fancy myself this but I’ve fallen out of the practice of writing. I filled the time with things which distract me from the things which are on my mind. Things which in the scheme of things do not matter a bit, yet at times have been all encompassing. They are good distractions as long as they remain distractions and not compulsions.

So I may be a dreaming fool …but I’ll be trying to put the words on the paper and try not to worry too much about what I write these days.

In other news…

I knew something before today but the nail has been driven home

That’s all for now other stuff tomorrow, have a great day and play nice in the neighborhood.

Ciao,