In a past post (9 months ago) I stated that I write what I feel. I feel nothing. Tokoni O. Uti advised me “Everyone goes there at times. It shall pass:)”. At this date, I am still waiting for it to pass, but I believe that Tokoni told me the truth of the matter, that it will pass.
Perhaps it has passed, or I would not be writing this post.
Perhaps a twinge of feeling is returning. Perhaps it never left at all. Could it be possible that the feelings were just sleeping because I failed to share them?
Looking back over my 2015 blog entries, I realize that there are few. Very few. New followers were appearing but i failed to share with them.
Perhaps all feelings, when not shared just wither away.
I will endeavor in 2016 to share more so that I can feel more and learn of and care more for what other people feel.
In that spirit, I wish all of you a very happy and prosperous New Year.
Especially Tokoni O. Uti for the encouragement given to me when I needed it nine months ago, and will never forget.
I love pizza and I love life. After a while, they both give me gas.
I write what I feel. Lately, I feel nothing.
To live is easy, effortless even. You breathe until you don’t.
To have a life is …?
I have been kicking back from recording audiobooks for a short time and kicking around a few book ideas. In the last few days those ideas have started kicking back, preparing to make their escape from my mind, apparently through my fingers.
Before sharing a portion of Chapter 2 of my new work bearing the working title of Life Has A Mind Of Its Own, I would like to inform people that this work is a figment, rather several figments or fragments of my imagination. It has no basis in truth or actual events. Any people who might have experienced and suffered similar events in their lives has my deepest sympathy and a special place in my prayers.
The property upon which this house, and eventually several more, had been built had seen its share of tragedy over the many centuries between the Spanish occupation and the building of the house.
Suicides and murders occurred quite frequently during and following World War II. All of that does not include those who had died from pure heartbreak from the loss of so many loved ones.
The Japanese burned three tribal villages in that area in a three month span of time. Every member of each tribe was hanged, beheaded or