Listening

I am sitting in my office just listening, there's no one else about...complete silence. Silence is one the most wonderful and calming influences that I know, I crave contact with people but more and more I crave my space, my silence.

But it's not silent, the building is making its own noise, its own song, giving voice to its day.
There are faint rumbling and swooshing sounds as the central heating regulates against the cold, walls and ceilings creak, light fittings buzz with electricity, a clock ticks on the wall above me, I can hear rain cascading across the roof tiles and down the drainpipes. The computers router tat, tat tats and the kettle sighs as the switch clicks off.

There are voices, the drum of rubber on tarmac, distant sirens and the eiree squeal of brakes, these are not the noises of the building but the world beyond the windows and doors. Filtered sounds that I will soon have to confront again, assulting my senses as I make my way home.

For now I have my own space, my own silence, I feel safe and comfortable in this building that talks, that speaks to me of its day without intruding on my silence, its noises will continue after I've locked the door.

Wow, life can kick

OK, so there is a reason to suddenly start blogging, at least that's what I decided at the end of last week. Who is it for?

A very good friend has been blogging for quite some time and directed me to his blog, I dip in and out every couple of weeks to see what has been added, what can I comment on and should I?

So I have finally taken the plunge into the world of blogging, my own personal blog space where I can share my thoughts, feelings and maybe even bore you with some of my work. Scared...Oh yes! I have realised what I write can and will be criticised and judged ,I hope my ramblings won't be held against me, but who knows...do I care?

When I've written before my work has always been scrutinised, plays or articles edited beyond what I deemed necessary, professional documents slashed with that dreaded red Bic ink, resembling a post autopsy cadaver than a resource written with care. So can I leave myself open to others, of course I can, but am I ready? Do I care?...well yes I do care and I am ready!

But I'm rambling, so why suddenly start blogging?...the answer is easy, you see we all face our own mortality, some of us just earlier than others. Now I'm not about to suddenly shuffle off this very minute (although a cuppa wouldn't go amiss), but being faced with a long term, possibly life changing, pill popping existence because some dear old ancestor has buggered up genes kinda changes your outlook on life, especially when that same dear old ancestor has kindly passed those very same genes and chromosomes onto me. Now please don't send the lilies just yet, it ain't that bad, unless the number 46x gets me tomorrow whilst I'm crossing the street!

Like most people I want to leave something of myself behind, (and in my case that ain't gonna be any little tykes carrying on my buggered genes to yet another generation, unless they really can develop some way of making the male of the species pregnant...maybe best get my boyfriend snipped just in case!!) for purely selfish reason and no other, I want to leave a mark, a trail, something that defined who I was and that I was here in the first place.

So who is it for?

Its for me!