One of my (revealable) deepest, darkest fears

I miss how easily words seemed to come to me. Lately, I keep thinking about my “first poems”, which used to be about Puppies, Kittens, Dogs and Cats. Through ages 6.5 -10 I think I was very cleverly hinting at what I wanted for Christmas! My parents were a bit slow on the uptake though, I only got my pets in 2001 :)

Creativity is so hard to sustain. Writing on demand is virtually impossible.

I fear my future.

Although there are various possibilities that have been very expertly outlined and debated ( where words such as “rich” and “husband” were thrown up – get the gist?) there are slight reservations. Slight.

So basically right now I fear that I am going to end up a struggling writer with no access to Facebook and no money to go to KFC, living in a poky one-bedroom flat with several cats who are my only source of company.


Otherwise life is good ya.