I'm hard to get to know - apparently. I've also been told that people find it difficult to read me, to know what I'm thinking, wouldn't like to play poker against me (not that I play poker, by the way).
I don't know what to make of such assessments. There are people reading this blog who've known me for over half a century, others for a matter of weeks or months. All of you are much better placed to pronounce on such matters than I.
When I was a kid, I used to worry that perhaps people could read my thoughts just by looking at me. Such disquiet (not paranoia exactly) probably derived from being brought up in a religious household, where God could supposedly see into everybody's hearts, minds, inner motives - and there was no hiding place.
I escaped from that particular institution.
However, I'll willingly concede that I'm quite a private person, happy to socialise but equally content with my own company; that I think a lot but don't feel the need to pronounce or spout off except on occasions (including the occasional ranting blog); that my primary mode might even be contemplative rather than active.
I live in my head and it's a very private place, but one that I'm comfortable in, thank you.
I choose words carefully, use them sparingly, occasionally write them down - and never talk in my sleep. I guess that's it really.
What more is there to say?
Just this. In case anyone thinks they can steal my thoughts, I give you the latest short but to-the-point tongue-in-cheek creation:
Caveat Vispillo*
Search elsewhere
for inspiration,
plagiarists.
There are no poems
left in this head
overnight!
*roughly translates as 'Night robber, beware!'
Thanks for reading, S ;-) Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook
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