I have come to the inevitable conclusion that the gift of gab does not grace me. I think I figured this out when I was 5 years old and forced to attend kindergarten. Being surrounded by an adult and 28 other children I didn't know, I retreated into myself and never resurfaced.
I am reminded of this even today as I encounter someone new, or find myself in a large group of people (even if I know them all). I have accepted that resurfacing will never happen.
I was prodded into this whole blogosphere doo-hicky-thing-a-ma-jig by a person who shall remain unnamed (/\/\_1_/\/_>_y), and I have enjoyed writing the few things which currently exist on my site, however, the amount of work and effort it takes to drag these thoughts and feelings from deep within is more than I believe it to be worth. Words do not flow through me like the Salmon of Capistrano. I contemplate for hours the mere paragraphs you see before you.
I may at one time decide to write again, but for now my patient prodders, get a facebook account and invite me to be your friend. I will keep you updated with short, manageable daily doses of Heath.
Thanks
1 comment:
When you do decide to write, let me know, and I'll read it. I enjoy what you have to say.
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