I have a strange compulsion to write. I have nothing to say, little articulation of my thoughts, and no readers to er, listen.
The last bit stops me from being mistaken for the ‘Daily Mail.’
As far as I can remember this desire first found life once I left school, well actually two or three years later as far as I can remember. On occasions I would sit on a train heading north wondering if it were possible to write about the experiences, such as they were on the journey. Rarely did anything come of this, and the world rests in peace because of it.
It flared up when Blogger came along and I decided to influence the world by putting my ill thought out opinions on line.
It took a while to work out how to contact the world, and often times it spoke back. It did not always encourage me to continue.
The good people still speak to me today. The bad people either stop reading or have sadly missed the opportunity to consider my thoughtful contribution to er, literature. They have a point I suspect.
Why do I wish to write? I left school at 15, well 14 actually, the day before my 15th birthday, with no qualifications and a suggestion that I could get an 'O' level if I stayed one more year. That was like asking POW's if they would like to stay another year and get a qualification! I ran away! I did obtain an English 'O' level a few years ago through answering questions via buttons on a screen. This gave me a certificate but I suspect the one on offer in Edinburgh would have been harder to obtain!
So why attempt to write when I have little idea of grammar, syntax (wot?), or the use of a full stop? Is it because I have something to say? My words tend not to change the world when I speak to people personally, however I do get a response, but let’s not go into that! Could it just be my itchy fingers wishing to run across the keyboard? That certainly is a phenomenon that occurs when I have been unable to use the machine for a while, I need my fix on the keyboard. It can be worse when the PC or laptop breaks down and I have to leave the house and actually speak face to face with folks!
No, I think I just want to write something, anything, and so I have. Therefore I am quite content. I have had my fix, I have spoken, no-one has listened, and I have said nothing. Another day at the office then?