Some months ago I was faced with a dilemma that, to be fair, I never thought I would have to face. What do you do when there has been a death in the family and you have just started a blog that needs feeding? Quite honestly I wasn’t in the mood to write short stories or funny anecdotes. When you’re angry, and sad, and worried, the humour that manifests itself inside your mind is dark and unpleasant. Black comedy, borne of tragedy, seeks to soothe the soul when it’s hurting - but this time I chose my privacy instead.
For the most part I’m still not entirely comfortable now, seven months on, sharing what has happened in my life here. And on facebook I choose not to talk about it and carry on as if everything is normal, but it can’t be. Still I don’t want to let things fall by the wayside so I’ll keep posting from now on. I’m feeling much better than I was. I feel like I have more direction and hope for the future. They'll be not only stories from my school days but other more sober (pun tended) tales from my days at university.
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