My latest spate of posts have been a ‘better than nothing’ endeavour of stringing together scraps of old drafts on my phone in an effort to produce something in the realm of momentum. Enough momentum to trigger the change I need in my life that should, in due course, create more space for ‘real’ writing.
So, having made the decision to post daily before being ready to do so, cobbling together has been the best I could muster. And that’s how it has felt: mustered cobbling. Relief-filled mustered cobbling.
They’re the kind of posts I’m glad not many people are reading. The kind of posts I doubt I’d be comfortable hitting publish on if I was sitting at a desk in my right mind.
Yet there they stand, now, proudly, by the wonder of the internet. Having served their purpose, and, in doing so, raising yet more questions about what the fuck this blog is actually for.