I love the written word. Whether I can write them well or not is another question all together. And I always mean to write “meaningful” stuffs (whatever that is) … things that are not limited to my world and me.
Each time I make this effort, I find myself staring at a blank screen, completely clueless as to what I should write. I’m not self-obsessed; I’m not a megalomaniac. There is nothing really about me that gives me a high.
Yet, I scribble on like a bloody narcissist who can think of no one but herself.
But I guess it's alright --- it is the only thing that keeps me from going insane.
I'd love to write with your sophistication. Whether writing my stories down will keep me sane remains to be seen. I may be gone already. My "blog" is nothing if not narcissistic. Maybe that's what this is all about.
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