I got told I need to write more. Not in general, because you know, I write for a living and if I was being told I needed to write more at work I'd almost certainly be doing my job wrong.
No. I got told I needed to write more outside of work, where my mind isn't shackled by the confines of a brief and other people's opinions and can roam freely throughout the fields of ideas.
Of course, there's no guarantee that my mind will stumble across a valid idea amongst that field, so I might end up in the situation I currently find myself: one where I feel I should write more, but don't have a clue what I could write about so I'll just end up writing the first things that come into my head.
Maybe I can shape it somehow. Maybe at the end it will all come together to form a coherent piece of online content. Probably not, but stranger things have happened. Once I drank 6 bottles of wine and could still walk home. That was stranger than this.
It doesn't really matter if this ends up being bollocks, because sometimes it can be good to just get the bollocks out. Metaphorically, I mean, not actually unzipping your jeans and hoisting your balls out for the world to see. Yeah, that's right, I have to hoist them. Like slightly deflated beach balls hanging in a net, that's what my bollocks are. Slightly deflated beach balls bobbing along on a mild spring day.
I don't really know where I'm going with this, but I guess that was the whole point.
Sometimes it can be good to have no idea where you'll end up. Other times it can lead to bollocks.
