One of the reasons why I’m not writing these days, is I am just plain old happy. As human beings happiness is the highest achievement we can strive for, as a tortured artist it is death…
It’s not that happiness doesn’t or can’t have the same intensity as darker feelings or is any less worthy of being written about, it’s just generally, people who are happy are too busy living their happiness to sit and write about it.
I’m not writing because I’m not sat at home all by myself for long stretches of time, I’m too busy going out and about, living my life. I’m not working on my blog or book because I’m not crouched over my laptop like a goblin in the dark chain smoking and regretting I ever existed. I’m too busy doing, living, experiencing!
And I’m proud, really proud of myself, I’m smashing out life goals left, right and center, making new plans and working hard on my self improvement. I dropped a bunch of weight, came off the meds I wanted, quit smoking (and put a bit of that weight back on) graduated therapy and….
That’s a whole other post though.
So I guess now I need to find the balance between the no longer chain smoking goblin and the fabulous, fancy, fiancé.