I know I established in previous blogs that I am not a great writer, and I write a lot, but the realization that the writing has been there for years really dawned on me recently. From small colourful diaries as a child, to short stories and poetry taking over scraps of paper from around the house on my parents to even using up old art paper as a teenager (got in trouble for that more than once when it turned out my parents needed those sheets), to the present day where notebooks, sheets tore out of notebooks and scratch pads filled with colourful squiggly words are scattered all over my coffee table and desk.... and maybe underneath the coffee table. I am loving it and wouldn't have it any other way, it is all mine even if it is a mess. Perhaps the childlike possessive behaviour has not dwindled.
Copyright 2015 Lucky 33: Stories, Experiences, Perspectives, and Opinions of a Woman Who Made It To Her Thirties