A Conundrum
Evening sunlight coming through the window of the B&B and I’m tapping away on my iPhone.
Dunno why I’m bothering. That’s what made me start writing. I think through writing. But what I’m thinking? Shite. Random thoughts. So do any of them count?
Nah, don’t write this stuff. But there’s something here. Something about being brave enough to say it. Yeah? Well don’t. Nobody wants to hear it. Or read it.
But what about if what I’m thinking connects dots for other people? Nope. It won’t. Leave it. Not sure, though.
That’s how my thinking was going. But then I realised I’d got a few words down. This could be a blog post. Dare I say: Should be a blog post?
I reckon so. Because what I’m thinking? That conundrum about getting a simple message across? Yep, there is something there.
I started out saying: Why am I bothering? The answer? Because it feels like I should.
I could say nothing. Sound. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to publish that’s a moan. Or sounds like one.
Ah, but then the conundrum would be no more. It is a talking point. Why do any of us bother to blog?
It’s not like the world needs our words.
Ah. Wrong. The world? Dunno. Humanity? Maybe.
That’s the conundrum.
The evening light is fading. I’m going to make a fresh brew. No conundrum there.