Confession number 1

Hello people of the cyber void

I have a few confessions to make to you, but where to start? Hmmm, not there and defiantly not that one, that one I will save you for a funny tale another time, aha here we go, something simple but something I wish to get out there into the void.   I am not a writer and never will I ever pretend to be one or fool you into thinking I am one.   I write because I enjoy the power and beauty of the written word.   There has always been that small wish in the back of my head saying, one day I should tell them my story, but personally I think I would rather save the trees at this moment in time.

WordI am somewhat of a traditionalist and enjoy the smoothness of the paper as it brushes against the side of my writting hand, seeing the gentle flow of the ink form letters, to words to sentences with precise structured curves and lines travelling the page like a ship bobbing on a vast ocean.   It is a slow process but because of that I find it to be a peaceful process where long drawn out cold days like today can turn into thrilling adventures of the mind where the only limitations are the setting of the sun and a cat walking off with my pen.  The mind, or should I rather say, my mind travels faster than my pen and on many occasions I have lost the words before they have even reached my fingers.   I sometimes wonder if I haven’t got a car park of words stuck in my elbow on route to the ever-cold fingers.  Like cars the words eventually corrode away leaving gaping holes filled full of unimaginative babble just for the sake of making a sentence flow.   So this is why you find me here with tap dancing fingers on my lappy top, I can type stupidly quickly and at times without looking, yes I know, I’m showing off now.

I find the glare of the computer screen soulless and sterile, it makes starting to write a daunting task, it takes my freedom of words and turns it into a tour of a damp basement, cold and uninviting.   It’s saving grace is the tapping of the keys, in a way it becomes a quite hypnotic feeling, the rhythm of the clicking of the buttons, turning it into a cyborg musical instrument as if you where writing your new life symphony.   I suppose that’s all documents are in the end, a life symphony.   A different tune for different occasions, for different people, each one so unique to the writer it belonged to.

Like life, we write with a purpose from the simplest of memos to some of the most heart wrenching lines you will write in you life, each one is as valuable as the last.   I have learnt so much from the written word, mostly the appreciation of the power, the shade the intonation of even the simplest of words such as I, where would we be without I?  You see my dear void viewers, I am a quiet person, quiet to the point where people turn around with jaws dropped to the ground when I speak, in short I am shy but I am getting better with it.   It frustrates me to no end at times, I would be sitting with a group of friends and they would be talking like a bunch of chickens in a coop, then they would turn to get my opinion on something and my brain just goes blank and I end up coming out with something stupid like “I like throwing mash potatoes against fridges” (never tried but there is a long future ahead of me).  I like being an observer rather than a talker, always have and probably always will be, oh this makes me sound very antisocial but trust me, I love the company of good friends and family, those who let me be me.   So this is one another reason why I love the written word, it just flows so easily for me and although I may ramble and overrun sentences and have no idea at times whether or not to put a coma here or there, I do it because the page in front of me will never judge me, never call me names, never break my heart but will let me be who ever on what ever adventure the letters take me next.  Thank you for listening.

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