Snails Redux?

Lately, everyone has been talking about snails!  Well, okay.  Maybe not everyone but it seems like an awful lot of people in my bubble.  Every morning I take the dog out for a walk, I see them on plants and cars and bins and pathways.  Tonight, in a moment of self-indulgence, I forwarded my old snail post from my first blog to a friend via Facebook.  I found the post through Google and had a chuckle to myself at how horrific the original ordeal was and how I managed to scrawl it onto a blog so many years later.

It made me realise that I don’t have that passion for writing anymore but I miss it desperately.

Writing has been this looming cloud over my head and bless my mentor, I have tried to channel it in a few ways I wouldn’t have attempted without his prompting.  I remain with as many furiously-scribbled notes on dockets and tickets and napkins as I did when I wrote back then with as little sense of direction about it. 

A person I know on Facebook and through blogging mentioned in a status that, if someone tells you something enough times, it will eventually ring true to you.  Other than bubbling rage at her narcissism, I can’t help that some of that rang true for me when I was BBing the first time.  Compliments are wonderful and great for bolstering one’s self-confidence, but I feel like I’ve plateaued somewhere and am seriously struggling to find something better.  Or at least what I had before.  I’m overthinking it.  Perhaps I’ve evolved but it’s suffocating and really quite sad because all sorts of ridiculousness has happened, is happening and will happen.  I fear I won’t be able to share that as stupidly as I used to. 

Yeah, I’m definitely overthinking it.