I’ve painted myself into a corner. Metaphorically speaking, that is. I mean, it’s not as if I’m here, sat on the floor, with a paintbrush in one hand and my phone in the other watching the paint dry and typing this message. No.

I just mean that I’ve put myself in the situation where I daren’t type anything meaningful anymore. There are just too many people watching. Or, at least, that’s how I see it.

I can’t type anything sexy because people from the meditation group I’m in (might) look at my blog. I can’t type anything about work just in case anyone from work tunes in. I can’t type anything about the radio station I work for because someone there might read it and become upset. I can’t write about bodily functions in case you don’t like it. I can’t write about my deep, inner feelings in case I read it. I can’t write about family in case they see it and disagree with it. I can’t write about anything or anyone really.

This is all that’s left for me to do now:

where the sky meets civilisation

2 thoughts on “Censorship

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