Change is an odd, odd thing

I've slipped back into my writing blog well and truly.  I'm managing to pump out at least 1 piece of flash fiction a day.  I can only hope this consistency holds up once I start work again because I'm coming to realize just how important it is for me to be able to write. 

I have often needed to put aside who I am to get by.  Responsibilities, maturity, care and compassion for other ect. have always been the forefront of my behaviour.  And while these are, on occasion, traits that I have had thrust on me by necessity, they are also traits I accept as a side of myself. But while this is the case I have also let a very large part of myself go undernourished because of circumstances. Underneath the surface I have passion and creativity that has not been directed properly. In continuing to write I feel I am becoming more myself then ever; which is a very odd feeling indeed.

I am also noticing odd things - such as the fact that the more I write the more Australian I sound. Which is hilarious given how long I have been in England.

The long of the short here is that I have been forced through a period of rapid growth, and I'm not at all unhappy with it.  Though that's not to say that there aren't things I would rather not have happened in the last year. But no matter what choices we make there will always be choices made for us whether it's by live or by those closest to us.