Write like no-one's watching...

Contrariwise…if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be but as it isn’t, it ain’t. That’s logic.

In the ten months I have been here in the UAE, I have spent the majority of my Saturday evenings writing. Sometimes it is a simple ramble like this, other perhaps inspired by the weekly events that have occurred. Some mould themselves around the people I meet. Some may be created from a deep emotion stirred within me. They all have something in common; they are my masterpiece.  I may not as poetic as Shakespeare or dramatic as Tolkien, but to me they are my prized possessions. My life written on paper; they are words scrambled across the field of lines.  Occasionally they make sense, the rest evolve as an organised mess.  

It is not a case of how I write, the techniques used, or the formation of the words – it is what I write that matters most. I write what I know. To me, nobody is a literary genius; anyone can write. In the same breathe no-one can criticise the way you express yourself. There is no right or wrong.  Every word you put into a sentence is unique. It is your snowflake. There may be a moment in time were someone will be jealous or angry at your words, but you will learn to deal with that.

Whether it is the pen scratching paper or your fingers pressing the keys, the letters appear creating words that shape the sentences to come. They shine for you. They show your strengths, your weaknesses – but more importantly – your story. Your story is your own. No-one can speak any different.

This is my story. I write because I can. It’s my form of escapism (besides reading that is). I write whatever forms into my head. I remember someone asking me back in December “Why do you write so much?” 

Well if I were not to write, all the thoughts in my head have nowhere to go. They need to be released in to the physical world.  Scratch that; I would actually end up insane (if that were possible since I fell down the rabbit-hole a long time ago).  

Speaking of rabbit-holes, I think some people tonight have fell down them and have yet to escape. Everyone seems to be wilder than usual. With that in mind, this post shall take its’ leave and bid you farewell.

The further off from England the nearer is to France –

Then turn not pale, beloved snail but come and join the dance.

                Will you, wo’n’t you, will you, w’o’nt, will you join the dance?

                Will you, wo’n’t you, will you, w’o’nt, wont you join the dance?