Insomniatic rantings

 

 

So, another night, another fit of insomnia.

I love writing, but i have found that i have fallen into a classic writer's trap, I have spent so much time reading that i haven’t gotten around to any real writing in ages. I loathe to say this, but i have gotten rusty.

So this blog is mainly to be the whetstone for my ability to transfer thought into the written word. I know, that sounds stupid, those who don’t write, or rather don’t care to write well find writing the easiest thing in the world and scribble down a few incoherent sentences or in some cases fragments and are done with it. I'm not one of those, I am one of the ones that find writing to be of the most excruciating experiences a person can have; thats part of what makes it so great. The ability to express oneself, to actually produce something that is a reflection of oneself, that is why we do things after all.

I don't really expect people to read this, its not really for people to read, its for me. My thoughts, what i feel like doing, what strikes my fancy will be the content. This means content will be erratic in subject, but what would you expect from someone who would choose to represent himself as Robin Goodfellow? So if anyone finds themselves here, i hope you enjoy whatever I throw on here as much as i enjoyed writing it. or baking it, who knows.

Painting in "Man Writing" by Oliver Ray