Who the feck cares?

Okay, let me go ahead and lay it out there: I don't believe anyone cares about what my daily routine is, how the sun setting at just the right angle over the windshield set my heart all soggy and warm to inspire me, or what my child is doing on a daily basis. I get it. I am here, writing, simply....because I love to write. I need to write. It is a passion I have, I am saturated with my thoughts and feelings, and here ( lets be honest) is a forum in which I feel like I need to be somewhat formal, but really... No one is listening (read: reading).

I am your run of the mill basic woman who has done quite a lot in my 3 decades. I don't presume that you will be so moved or peaked by my stories, thoughts and recollections, but I have been told I can write some decently purdy-word-trains, so I try. I try to keep flowing, I try to find substance in the mediocre, I try and reconcile my many many many mistakes, and laugh at them. Its hard to laugh from the inside out, try it. No really...try it.

I am christening this page with nonsense to be added to the ominous nonsense of free will and free intellectual space. I speak to the masses of nobody who barely have time to stop to listen to themselves think. Those same people that rush around making e-reservations to sit in a place that sells food and "bottle service" where they can text and IM on their blackberries at the same table. I am sending my tiny little shock-wave out into this oblivion and hoping, if nothing else, to hone in on my own skills as a budding novelist.

Thank you very much no one, for being here to receive it.