(364) The Evolution of Finding Shit to Write About Every Day for a Damn Year
Classical Sass
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Darling Sass, (I hope you don’t mind me calling you Sass, but to me, that’s who you are, and it’s a side to your personality I admire, and I’ve read the post about your names. I proly wdve adopted the name Kitty if I’d been blessed with the name you had been given, but that’s just my thoughts and not a troll lol).

I have found you only recently, and have missed the early days of your writing, and perhaps I’ll go back through and start at the beginning once your 365 days has ended. What a wonderful challenge you took on and well done on completing it.

I particularly wanted to say that I have sincerely enjoyed what I’ve read. Although I haven’t commented on every post, I feel that you have found a way to voice what I, and maybe more than just myself, feel only fleetingly throughout the day when that whorl of thoughts and emotions flashes past us and that only a trained therapist could unravel and analyse the depth of given an unlimited budget of therapy dollars. You somehow have been able to dig deep (your words) and latch on to those fleeting experiences of feeling and then transfer them into the written and highly entertaining word. So it makes me feel like I’m not alone, and I draw comfort from that.

Not only have I enjoyed your intelligent observations of life and the inner workings of the the human psyche, I have enjoyed the stories about the kiddies you teach, and it gives me a warm feeling to know that you share your kindness and special brand of realness with them, and I know they will take that realness into the future where we need less pretence and more substance.

And then there’s the pictures, the artwork you accompany your stories with. So well matched, so cleverly sourced, so beguilingly beautiful that my eyes would feast on the artwork and I could feel the artists brush rewiring my neurones, and that was before I even read the story.

I feel like I have known you, and I am thankful for your courage. Thanks as well to Kimboo for getting you on this journey, and to all those who have supported you, because, I for one have really enjoyed and benefitted from your little doses of humanity.

Please keep writing Sass. Please keep taking notes on those fleeting moments and send us postcards from wherever you are. ❤. Thank you.

Afterword: My own daughter is a muso, she finished her 4 year degree and promptly had a complete suicidal breakdown and 5 years later has only just pulled the flute out again, but has only played to herself. The competitveness of the industry coupled with her high sensitivity, high intelligence and mainly undiagnosed mental illness created an overwhelming desire to be the best. It was her nemesis that drove her to be suicidal on more than one occasion (I have a kind of PTSD about that). While she shows signs of recovery, it is taking years, so I have come to the conclusion that this is just how life is now.

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