Here I am, sitting in my Livingroom in my 1970s home, watching a Netflix film about teenagers (of which I am most definitely not) and figuring out how to use this wordpress app. I had an urge to write. I have always written, I say always…I didn’t come out the womb writing! But not far off. I kept countless diaries as a child and teenager (oh those angsty teenage diaries!!). Now I am 30 something and still write. I recently started a notebook where I can write songs, this amazing idea came to me when I had 5 minutes to myself in the shower and decided that I had most certainly had thought of the next big hit whilst I was lathering myself up with foam burst shower cream. I wrote a page and the rest sits empty (for now…). When I had a bit of a breakdown (yep, heavy one) I decided to write a novel, it was about a man, a writer, a drunk and something about murder. Needless to say I didn’t finish the book and I lost interest. So why do I write? Because I have an urge, its therapeutic and I want to just vent in some way or another. So here I am, writing again and maybe this time short snippets of ramblings is the way forward rather than committing to a novel or a music album!