Is there anybody out there?

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So I made a website for my poems and stuff. Ta da! Shiny.
It’s quite possibly the most narcissistic thing I’ve ever done. I’m trying to reconcile this idea of having a place to keep and share my work, with this whole self-promotion thing. As an introvert with more anxiety than you can shake sticks at*, this…gives me creepies.
Self-pimping aside, I’m quite proud of my little art baby. I hope in time, this will grow and evolve and chronicle my writing which, until now, has sat largely in my brain and on various post-it notes and google docs spread across the multi-verse. I hope you enjoy being here as much as I enjoy pottering around here. Imagine this website like a weird slightly hippy beach hut full of random bric-a-brac and sand. Imagine seeing me pottering, watering can in hand, nurturing my words so they grown and curl and reach out, and sometimes, blossom.
If you hang around long enough and don’t make too much noise, I might offer you a cuppa.

* ok, when does something become too much of itself to shake sticks at? You get past 20 somethings, and it’s “woah, OK Dave, stop shaking that stick, there’s too many”?
…asking for a friend…

i found this little bird house tucked away on the corner of my shed, in my new garden, in my new house, looking gorgeous in the October sun

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