The Final Word

Dant pointed out the below link to me...

andrewolmsted.com/

A poignant reminder of why people write, not just blog, but actually find any form of inspiration to make their thoughts and opinions anything more than just a fleeting jumble of neuro-electronic impulses possibly culminating in some kind of noise.

This really is the easiest step to immortality. Blogging gives the author an absolute certain opportunity to get their head out there without having to try too hard. Put out there, see what happens but you don't have to ask anyone, or search people out...it all just sort of happens.

I believe that you either want to write or you don't. I'm still new to blogging but have written reams of poetry since I was very young. From the angst of the first broken heart to the utter despair of the worst, writing it down has always been the therapy that works best but it's so hard to share it. Giving someone the actual book of all that jumbled emotion just seems firstly too personal and secondly somewhat contrite..."look at me, look at me". Blogging is an easy step, you don't have to ASK anyone to read what you say, it's up to them, and there's nothing nicer than having someone say something, anything, about what you say. It's a sense of being part of something and of actually being listened to, maybe helping someone in a similar position...even when you don't think you are.

I have thought, on particularly morbid days, what would someone think of all that guff and gusto of mine post-humously? Stuck between wanting to have the chance to say "this is what I meant to say and do" and between just getting on with it without having to show everyone my poetry has in the most part remained for my eyes only. It's a shame, not because it's particularly brilliant, but because sharing it in the way I want to, could be.

Andrew Olmsted took the next level and had his say at a time when you never should be able to. His last post is touching, thought provoking, comforting but more importantly, it his him: his opinion on himself. It's the part of us that wants to write our own obituary and epitaph and to have a say at our very own funeral. It's the need in all of us to keep going...even when we know we can't. It's sad but it's hopeful and at the end of the day, which of us wouldn't want to have the final say on our favourite subject?