Like I said before and I'll say it again. Sick people have too much time to think. I am sick and I am miserable and I am questioning every single thing, down to how long does it take a tissue paper to dissolve in water...
After blogging for so long and so much, I find myself back tracking and wondering if blogging about myself and my world isn't the smartese thing to do. People know more about me than I do myself and that's just freaky. I'm coughing non stop and I can't sleep so I read some of my past posts and lord o'lordy, I revealed more than I should back there. It's like a window to my soul and some of the entries were so raw that I can't believe I let strangers into my turbulent time capsule, that's what each of the post are, time capsules that captures exactly how I'm feeling in that time and space.
Maybe I should stop blogging for a while and see how that holds up? I admit I am addicted to blogging. Now I'll just have to find a way not to share my intimate thoughts with the rest of the world. Maybe I'll start a non-online journal again, a real diary with ink and all. The romance of writing isn't dead in me. The physical act of writing with a fountain pen on onion-thin paper still appeals greatly to me. I'm just a romantic at heart. I still prefer letters to emails.
*sigh*
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