turtlesyndrome

Oooh boy, I’ve been such a busy little [queen] bee today!  I created a page for my writer self.  Which includes my real picture and a mostly real name.

Here’s my thinking: I don’t need to post a LOT there.  And I don’t have to post every day or all day long or whatever…

But today I felt a pang of envy.  I want to have my writing known again. I don’t have to publish all of my stuff under my real name – just the stuff that I’m okay with being totally public about.  And that’s pretty cool.  I even created a twitter account for myself.

So here, you get the unfiltered.  There you get the highly filtered showcase.  I can test things out here on this anonymous blog, and when no one tries to burn my bushes down, I can decide if I want to post it there or not.

Besides.  I used to actually be able to write about really big mind-blowing things. I was good.  I swear I was.  Then I got all broken.

And yeah, it’s gonna take some time for me to get back into my thing.  But that philosophical mind-over-matter part of me isn’t gone.  She’s just pulled her head, tail, arms and legs into a shell.

Coax here, post real stuff there. yeah.

 

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