The post a day project didn’t quite work and I’m relieved. The pressure to post something everyday turned the act of writing into a very contrived one. Rarely, do I wish to edit or change old stuff. I couldn’t quite say the same for the posts put up lately. I suppose it’s got to do with a bunch of beliefs about the who, what, why, when, where and how of writing for me.
‘I’ is a pretty limited authorship. None of this is mine, so where is the question of asserting ownership.
In from the outside and out from the inside
I have no choice.
The fruit drops off when its ripeness cannot be borne by the branch anymore.
Birth cannot be stopped just as death.
As it is.
The bard had it all figured out… to thine own self be true..