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Being Quiet

To a learning-to-speak two-year-old my father must have seemed like the Iron Duke. I chose to shut up. (Today’s dads, please note.) And I shut up for fifty years – all my choice. How could my father have foreseen that? He wasn’t used to being a parent.

Half a century of fearing a hostile hearing and so just listening to everyone else. And, boy, does everyone else go on? Mainly about themselves; complaining; being right; giving reasons; giving excuses; and fooling nobody. All that energy. It’s quite exhausting. Best to be diplomatic, though, and keep quiet.
Expressing

So, I stayed bored, frustrated, wasted, isolated, depressed, damned in any case. It must have looked like arrogance, being aloof, unfriendly, the perennial outsider. And nothing got done.

As I’ve said: this blog transforms all that. I will have my say; it should only take about six months. If I make enemies, at least I’ll also discover who are my true friends and be thankful for them. It’s time to be open, honest, outrageous even. It’s time to share.

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