
Two years ago, and another relationship had been and gone- destroyed by yours truly, of course. I remember creating this blog in an effort to get back on track. In the early days, no one read my stuff. No comments. No feedback letting me know if what I was doing was right or wrong. The silence was deafening at times, and more than once I wanted to give up. Those ex-lovers had been right after all. Maybe it was time to jack it all in and focus on a career. Maybe get into teaching, or work in a bank. Perhaps the long-standing belief I had in myself was misplaced. Maybe I should stop dreaming and believe in something more, real. Writing is a lonely act. It’s cast me adrift and the sacrifices I have made haunt me on a daily basis. And yet the joy it has given me over the past two years is indescribable. Self-expression; for me, nothing comes close. To put my dreams and visions into words and share them with others makes me feel alive. And the support given me in response to my work is humbling. I’m not normally the type of guy to write so directly; I find it a little egotistical, not to mention it makes me feel awkward. But nonetheless, if you’ve ever taken the time to like anything I’ve written, or have gone so far to comment on it, then I want to thank you. It may not seem like it with the way I come across, but every kind gesture you’ve ever given me touches me in a way I’d never experienced until a few years ago. My promise to you is always to try and give you something worth reading- to be as honest as I can and never give anything less. To share my secrets- to put my insides on display. It’s a dangerous thing, but it’s worth it. At long last, it seems as if I have a purpose, and without you, it would never have been possible.
Stay Beautiful x
“I dreamed I was dying; as I so often do
And when I awoke I was sure it was true
I ran to the window; threw my head to the sky
And said whoever is up there, please don’t let me die
But I can’t live forever, I can’t always be
One day I’ll be sand on a beach by a sea
The pages keep turning; I’ll mark off each day with a cross
And I’ll laugh about all that we’ve lost.”

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