I so wish I could just say it...........

I feel like writing some stuff. I reckon I can, but I would have to delete a big honkin amount of it.

Some people have told me to just write. Write what I feel, write what I am thinking.

It is just so happens for me, that one, some of the things I want to say are really not for other people’s ears, eyes, knowledge….and two, I write a blog already so I don’t much wanna write something twice or in two different formats. One for me and one for you (all nine of you).

I am not dating, but if I were, I couldn’t write about it here so I don’t hurt my ex (in case he or an ex in-law read it). He may not care, and it shouldn’t matter , but it does (to me).  I don’t wanna know what he is doing I can guarantee you that! Of course, I am dateless, but if I wasn’t, well… I wouldn’t.

I can’t write about my family, because I don’t want to get a “beat down” by inadvertently saying something about a family member that wasn’t my business to say. OR…OR hurt their feelings OR say what bugs me about them and then be forever an outcast. I don’t really think any of that would happen, but frankly, I don’t want my business told to the world by them. I tell everyone myself anyway. AND I for SURE would not relish knowing what bugs them about me. So again, no info to be had here.

I can’t write about my friends because I think I have pretty good ones and the people I would write about aren’t really my “friends” anyway and anything I would say would be pointless, unheard, and irrelevant to anyone other than me.

I certainly can’t write about politics because I don’t have a clue about them.

I don’t plan on writing about religion because I am not in the mood and there is no telling what kinda crazed “I’m going to hell” kinda back lash I would get for having a different view. You scoff, but some folks are CUCKOO!!

So then what do I write? I have lamented over my weight, hurts inflicted purposely and unknowingly by others. My own internal struggles, my mom’s illness, and my dad’s death. I have written about sorrow, confusion, loss, grief, gumption, awareness, loneliness and hope.

"Hey April why don't you write about being happy?" Happiness? Happiness you say? UHMMM that is why I read fiction.

Truth be told I am happyish, I do smile and have been told I jest on occasion.

I want to tell “so and so” they hurt my feelings
or that “other person” that they kinda weird me out.

I want to say shuh uhh that is SOOOO not what happened.
Or tell my friend I really don’t want to do that this year.

I want to talk about what I think, why I think it, and why I am right (okay that maybe pushing it)!! J

I feel crammed to capacity with thoughts and feelings and unlearned lessons.

Today, I will leave things as is.