Writing Veins
I want to start really writing again…putting pen to paper and letting it all flow, blood to ink…the way I used to. The way I used to before my passioned pen and prose got me into trouble. Before the word intense became four-letter and not simply innuendo. Before sky became ground and I questioned my reflection.
I have this, of course, but more importantly I have blank pages of parchment beckoning. Spaces calling out for some soul. Just as with music, the pull of artistic expression in all her wile is pursuing me, haunting me.
Create!
I have, with food, but that no longer feels enough. Maybe its the free flow of connections with creative, artistic people that have been an influx in my life this past year. Maybe its the yen to free myself from the societal norms for behavior. Demure, I am not…yet I’ve lived a virtual hermit in a sea of ever whirling currents of thought, desire, need.
Some things will make the leap from ink to bytes – this is inevitable – so I will be sharing tantalizing tidbits for those whose interests I’ve piqued. Fair warning; my mind is not a PG-13 film…future perusal will be at your own risk…
As always, I welcome and accept comment and criticisms alike. Please, do not be shy!
I dare both of us…
Naked 
Your writing style reeled me in. Good bait. Do I heed the warning though?
Its more a warning for those that won’t see females as anything other than demure subordinates in peep-toe kitten heels, an apron and a baby over one shoulder.
Also, I cuss. Somewhat frequently sometimes. I also ramble, seemingly to nowhere, when I free-flow thoughts to print. I think about sex more often than anyone would dare to hazard a guess…
But welcome aboard, and excellent post on Kony!