Doing this blog is sometimes hard work. Since I don't work though, I don't really think I should complain. In a month or so it will be a year since I started it, one cold, dark winter's night. In that time I've missed a couple of days, decided to end it, because I felt I wasn't able to say what was truly happening in my life, because it's sometimes got me into trouble with the biggots. That was a joke really, because unless I'm mistaken the most expicit it's got is when I first fell in love and we walked home hand in hand, shock horror and we were both men!
I will keep at it. I like it. It's cathartic.
I remember when I could write my diary in long hand, wondering who would read it in the future, if anyone. There was an entry called 'Who are you?' I wrote that at eighteen, wisely knowing that whoever it was, it wouldn't be any child of mine.
I will keep at it. I like it. It's cathartic.
I remember when I could write my diary in long hand, wondering who would read it in the future, if anyone. There was an entry called 'Who are you?' I wrote that at eighteen, wisely knowing that whoever it was, it wouldn't be any child of mine.