Reality check. CHECK!!!!

Is it just me? Are our lives just a mess of coincidences, or is there some higher purpose to these significant trivialities?

I seem better dealing with the devastating realities of cancer than the nuances and needs of my work or relationships. Even my shrink would struggle to explain this. It appears to be the one area of life I am capable of tackling with full-on honesty in a way I cannot in virtually every other aspect of my existence.

And even then, this is an honesty with which many would not want to engage.

He4dgirl DOES matter....

I have to learn this stuff all over again. But it's time.

I face the same dilemmas: too little time, too many distractions, too great the aspirations and so insignificant the reality.

But still. One has to start somewhere.

One important distinction. I have no aspirations to be a writer: I do not harbour the faintest belief that I write with sufficient wit, intelligence, grammatical nous, creative expression or anything else that turns thoughts into something that can bring pleasure to others. Neither do I believe I have nothing worth saying.

This is a personal journal. I have no idea where it will end. And I just changed the word 'journal' from journey. I suspect much of the journey will be, as it already has been, deeply personal. The journal represents those parts I choose to share - and often in the safe knowledge that absolutely no-one is reading this.

Apart from 37 users in China, according to the stats from my first ever post over two years ago. Hmmm. Guess we won't read too much into that.

What's brought me back? too much to say here, I'm too tired. Friends troubles. My own troubles. Our joys. The twists of my life. (and Jeez, it twists like a writhing serpent on heat!).

Oh bollocks does it. Maybe in my mind, but I always was way too dramatic.