Being a "Writer"

I was reading up this morning on the finer points of being a writer. One of the first things I read was "We must write from Love...."
Oh for shit's sake, I thought.
But then I read on: "...the Love of naming our experiences."
Oh, I thought, cool, I love analyzing the hell out of things. Sweet, I'm half way there! This writing caper's not so hard!

The awesome, hilarious and now dead writer David Rakoff said that some days his computer sat on his desk gagging and gasping like a child dying from an infection, and just couldn't motivate himself to administer the anti-biotic. Now, I realize how morose that sounds, but I think was talking about writers block. I am pleased to report that five days into my diary bloggy thingy, I think I am suffering more from diarrhea than constipation. I am finding it very therapeutic to jot down some of the chaos in my head. I always thought bloggy people were very self-indulgent thinking that folk would want to read their spurtings. And while I still think that, I dont minding admitting I love reading them, and now, I love writing one.

Hey! have I found a new purpose?????
No, its not really purposeful to anyone but me is it?
And the big question, who AM I anyway?
Naaaah, just kidding.
Laters. x x x