That was NaBloPoMo. Decided on seventy words a day, a length I could easily write to, and it proved SO HARD. Reluctant work-out for a miserable mind that wanted to cower in silence. No. Bugger it. Go away. No words. But there are always words, and words are something. A small confrontation with the nature of writing. The mind telling itself: yes, I'm here. However hopeless, I am conscious, someone.
Happy to be here.
"Post every day for a month. That's all you have to do."
Well done and congratulations, Jean.
I put myself on a sliding scale, because I didn't write everyday – but you did, and I enjoyed spending every day with you, in this country where we literally vanish if we don't speak.
Congratulations for completing the month, Jean, and doing so well with it, too. I don't know about you, but I'll be happy not to *have to* post anymore. I'm glad I did it, though. It did push me.
I'm glad you did it..good for you.
Reluctant work-out for a miserable mind that wanted to cower in silence...However hopeless, I am conscious, someone.
What psycho therapist said. You dismiss it so lightly, that achieve so much.
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