There is a saying, down here in the south, that the longest road, is the road that leads you home. That road home? Well it twists and turns, its path lost amongst fog and moss, and sometimes you lose sight of it.
But only sometimes
And then sometimes, you find it. The purpose. The love. And the reason to write. It's never been about money to me, the writing of a story. It's always been about the character and the emotion. While like everyone else, I could use some spare change, I have a good job that pays the mortage, if I'm lucky and I hold my upper lip in just the right position I can afford a movie on Sunday with extra for popcorn. So I've decided and I wrote it down, dear heavens someone save me because if it's written down it must be done, that I'm going to write the book of my heart.
I don't particularly care if my skill is good enough, or even if I've the right of it yet. But I'm going to write it all the same. The good, the bad, and the craziness because let me tell you, nobody on earth would believe some of these events to be true, but they are, I'm laughing here, because only people from the south have family like mine.
Janie, I'm sorry I didn't get to call you today like I said, but I ended up having to work. Sucky day job. Sorry. I actually didn't even get home until about 9:30 If you were up and 'you know who' wouldn't kill me, I'd call. But I hope that after that soliloquy (yeah, you know I had to look that up to get it spelled right) that you posted today you've gone and gotten yourself some much needed sleep. You absoultly almost made me laugh my knickers off. Good one Janie. That one was full of piss and vinegar. Just like I like 'em.
Okay, I'm signing off for tonight folks. I hope you've all had a better day.
Here's hoping that the earplugs I bought work tonight so I can finally get some much needed sleep myself. If not, I swear I'm going to put a pallet in my office and bunk down in here. I can hear the lion snoring all the way downstairs.
But only sometimes
And then sometimes, you find it. The purpose. The love. And the reason to write. It's never been about money to me, the writing of a story. It's always been about the character and the emotion. While like everyone else, I could use some spare change, I have a good job that pays the mortage, if I'm lucky and I hold my upper lip in just the right position I can afford a movie on Sunday with extra for popcorn. So I've decided and I wrote it down, dear heavens someone save me because if it's written down it must be done, that I'm going to write the book of my heart.
I don't particularly care if my skill is good enough, or even if I've the right of it yet. But I'm going to write it all the same. The good, the bad, and the craziness because let me tell you, nobody on earth would believe some of these events to be true, but they are, I'm laughing here, because only people from the south have family like mine.
Janie, I'm sorry I didn't get to call you today like I said, but I ended up having to work. Sucky day job. Sorry. I actually didn't even get home until about 9:30 If you were up and 'you know who' wouldn't kill me, I'd call. But I hope that after that soliloquy (yeah, you know I had to look that up to get it spelled right) that you posted today you've gone and gotten yourself some much needed sleep. You absoultly almost made me laugh my knickers off. Good one Janie. That one was full of piss and vinegar. Just like I like 'em.
Okay, I'm signing off for tonight folks. I hope you've all had a better day.
Here's hoping that the earplugs I bought work tonight so I can finally get some much needed sleep myself. If not, I swear I'm going to put a pallet in my office and bunk down in here. I can hear the lion snoring all the way downstairs.
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