I'm lacking inspiration... for a title.

I am OVERFLOWING with words, there have been many times in the past when I've been like this... where I need to sit and write. I'm happy here.  If I had to go and sit with people and talk about things, pretend to be normal, pretend to engage... or even worse, FORCE myself to engage I would be MISERABLE. I want to sit here and write, to myself, to my friends and now this new concept of writing to nobody in particular OUT HERE in the world.  Sharing my thoughts and feelings, sending them out into somewhere, FOREVER.

I was looking at some chairs in church today.  Lovely wooden seats with brass plaques for remembering deceased and loved family members.  One of the plaques had broken, the words and the memory had started to wear away.  Traditionally, everything that was written, every letter, every telegram and every lesson was finite.  The words always wore away, everything was transient and MUCH more forgiving.  I think we censor ourselves that little bit more when we know it's there indefinitely.  Are they going to have a big clear out of the internet?  Will all Facebook photos that have been there for 100 years be deleted?  Or is every word, picture and rant STORED forever? Scary!

We don't know what inspiration is, perhaps it's just my internal imbalances that give me an enormous urge to get away from everyone and sit and unravel my day.  Wrap words around a situation, break it down, make it accessible, un-muddle the confusion and make sense of the madness (or try to!)

Onwards, upwards.

Frank xx