Confessions of a lapsed writer and new member
I look at the name I have given myself for admission to this site. Bald Writer. it
With this in mind I rise up from my secure, comfortable seat and proceed to the holey room, where I will consult with my truth seer. Gazing into its recently cleansed flat glass surface, the truth of the first part of that nomenclature is confirmed. Definitely (and for a very long time) bald.
I return to my seat, look at my new identity, and open word. The blank page opens.
Is the one word I see on the blank paper. My second truth seer confronts me. I call myself writer, but the page is blank. I see only the work that I know is not really there. When was the last time I filled it with words, thoughts, truths or even lies.
There was no time. Lies
There were no ideas More lies
I have no talent Excuses.