The words of President Theodore Roosevelt. Not, I'm sure, spoken in relation to blogging but I doubt he'll mind my borrowing them for the day.
So, here I am, pen in hand, blank paper before me. . . a pretty word picture because in reality I am balancing my laptop on my knees and sipping a vanilla latte.
Do what you can. Easy said Mr President, (may I call you Teddy?) you who had a household staff to do your bidding, let alone a political party at your disposal and your grand and glorious government. So many 'what ifs'. What if my work is rubbish? That no one wants to read it? And that one word of criticism that could strip me to shreds? Yeah, yeah ... I'll never know unless I try. I hear you.
But I suppose it doesn't matter. My ideas, my thoughts, my words. Tricky little rat bags at the best of times, but they're mine, part of the ''what you have''.
So, help me here Teddy. How did you harness your thoughts into some semblance of respectability? Coaxing doesn't work. Bribery is haphazard. You ever try lassoing them? Sure they could be dragged kicking and screaming and forced to sit there, but they'd only behave like five year olds at a tea party. Seems a bit tough on everyone, don't you think?
Maybe the secret lies in where you are. Sitting quietly at the table is all too polite, public places are distracting and slouched before the television disconnects the brain. But what about the dead of night? Let my thoughts think they've won, that they've stopped me from sleeping, forced me out of a warm bed to do their bidding. Let them think they're in charge.
Of course, if my words are useless they can take the blame. How can I be held responsible for ramblings in the wee, small hours?
I think, Mr President, we just nailed it.
So, thank you and good night.
