I write for me. Is that a terrible thing to say?
But in writing for me, I’m hoping there’s a “me” out there who resonates with what I’m writing.
I hope it’s you.
In writing for me, and so, for you; I can be honest. As is.
Real with what’s going on in life. And in our co-joined lives as peoples of the earth.
Why am I writing?
As I wrestle through problems in life, I find that below the surface of problems, lies deeper, inner issues with the soul. Undealt with. Hidden in the heart.
There are also struggles with what’s going on in our world. To people we know, or don’t know.
I know I’m not alone nor unique in these personal and external struggles.
It’s just that, in the hurriedness, in the hardness of life, we plough on and ignore what’s going on in our heart. Also, it’s hard to be real in a rubble of facades, isn’t it?
So, I write. The good and the bad. Bringing what’s real to the light.
I hope through my writing, my words will connect with yours.
May my words be the lyrics to your song.
If you are into personality tests thing: I’m an INTJ, a Choleric Melancholy, a D and C in the DISC personality. But as my wise advisers will say, “don’t let it define you.”
I always have thoughts in my brain running at high speed and often at each other. It sometimes drives me crazy, no, not literally.
I have a borderline sarcastic, dry humour kind of, er, humour. Though those close to me will attest to the level of borderline.
I can be poetic, crass, sentimental, mental, passionate, pessimistic, an intellectual, a doofus, sensitive and brutal all at the same time in one package.
Glad you’re here.
p.s. My writing won’t be your “10 ways to a better life” or “the secrets of being happy” kind of prescriptive content. Because—life is anything but prescriptive.