Now that I've rationalised my stupidity and got to grips again I'm back on track.
This is going to be a true and sincere depiction of my experiences. I can see that when I read back some parts it's going to make me feel a tad hot under the collar.
Those few who are reading it, will see the inner workings of my head, some may come to an opinion, some may not, some may sit on the fence, some may just placate me...
Opinions, judgements, thoughts and ideas stemming from this experience of mine about the whole of me is hmm. I wouldn't know how to put it to me let alone anyone else. So let me analogise it.
This is a holiday novel. I'm sat by a pool sunning myself engrossed in something that I want to read. It's a snapshot of a particular place in the journey an individual is undertaking in life, it alludes to the past, but for referencing, it's inquires into the future, which is fluid and indeterminate. It is a depiction of now. Nothing more, nothing less.
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