Four days in and I don’t want to do this calendar anymore. It feels contrived and prideful. It tells me a lot about my lack as a human but such things are meant to be held in the personal pages of a diary, not sprayed all over the internet to make an already raucous place even more so.
We all talk too much. In my fear of not being noticed or useful as a writer, I’ve been trying to force it out of myself and it’s really not going to help anyone.
I want to live. Only once one has lived does one have tales to tell. All this experiment is turning out to be is more of the thoughts that got me stuck in the first place.
I don’t need to tell the world about all that. I just need to act.
I’m sorry I disturbed you all with my flare of ego. I’m sorry I distracted myself from actually actively working towards freedom so I could write you all some real tales of value.
I’m returning to the Quarterly Newsletter. I’ll let you know briefly in that how the ‘selling everything’ is going in there. Otherwise, go live your lives. Thank you for your attention. This was not valuable enough for me to have demanded it.
I’m off to visit my sister for her birthday now. I’m going to hopefully meet her boyfriend for the first time and we’re going to walk for miles, eat cake and catch up with the rest of the family.
I hope you have a lovely Christmas and I’ll speak to you again in the New Year.
I will leave up this and the previous posts for a few days before deleting. Turns out I really like getting rid of stuff.
No need to apologise. I think you've explored an avenue of author promoting and decided it's not for you. You might not have known that otherwise.