“The sad thing about form is that it hinders us from saying what we had originally intended to say“, , (Scottish Poet, Born 1952)
I didn’t intend to write tonight. I thought why not give you readers a break after 2 raw nights of my ramblings. But a conversation has come up amongst some of my readers, about their feeling of some lack of refinement in my writings.
This, of course despite the fact that I promised nothing, might have even warned of the places I would go. (my thanks to Theodore Seuss Geisel). I thought several times over the course of my life, that I would write a book. they say everybody has one in them. But, alas, as much as I wanted to do that, I had neither the time, nor the patience and quite honestly the mind for it. I am not an author. Nor do I strive to be.
I can pen quite the song, if my friends and family are to be believed. I am quite proud of that, and not embarrassed to agree with them. I can write amusing prose in very, very short form. And for the love of the founder of the World Wide Webernet, I think I can write one helluva Blog!
(Remind me to write a Blog, someone, if you would, on phrases that have seen their day, such as this one coming up) : Having said that, I will end this mercifully for you in rather short form tonight. There was a point to be made. the fair and open-minded will see that, the people that have future issues, with my content, with my ability to convey my thoughts into words, or with me in general, will all still have my unyielding love and admiration, despite them being incorrect.