I've had some kind of writer's block for months now, never knowing what to blog about. Either my life has ground to a shuddering boredom-filled halt, or I have stage fright after people complimented me on my previous efforts. As far as I can tell, it's not the former, unless my brain has also turned to porridge and in actual fact is trickling out of my ear - whilst I sit, staring vacantly into space in some secure unit with a stupid lop sided smile on my face as I imagine I am actually sat at home typing this - as we speak. But, not to get too Cartesian on your asses, that's not such a bad thing anyway, as to all intents and purposes my subconscious would believe it, therefore I would not know any different. I think therefore I am etc. Like wot's in the Matrix, innit?
I'm not sure what is causing my lack of entertaining banter these days but I think part of it might be down to lack of practice and/or subject matter.... I'm trying to start updating the blog more regularly again now, but the fact is if I don't have a story to tell, it's bloody difficult. I do not have what might be termed an exciting or glamorous life - especially by London standards - and there are millions of people out there all doing what I'm doing with much better stories to tell.
So, I need a hobby - as Craig pointed out last night during one of his sage, "sober for 2 weeks" pieces of mentoring - and am planning on starting to grow vegetables in our back garden. Life does not get any more rock and roll than this, let me tell you. So over the spring and summer months, strap yourselves in and get ready, for the roller coaster ride of emotions that can only be stirred by one man's struggle to raise 3 cherry tomatoes as a single parent....
see that tattie grow......
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