What makes a person is not simply biology. Nor is it simply a case of the nuture in which they have been given from each other person they have encountered.
What makes a person is their past, the present and their aspirations for the future.
I have always wanted to write. And write I have done: poems, prose, diary entries, letters, newspaper articles even. More often than not, what I write is lesson plans and comments at the bottom of other people’s writing. It is, of course, still writing but it wasn’t quite what I had in mind at a young age. Now,bout a quarter of a century later, I can identify that there are two ways in which to be a writer. Option One: wait until you have retired from whatever it is your adult self does (in my case, teaching the art of reading and writing), and spend your days trying to trace back those muses which came and wen, jotted down in notebooks now worn to wormfood. Option Two: just write. I have chosen Option Two for years, yet rarely has anyone seen what I write.
This is my New Year resolution for 2013: a year which should be lucky for me as 13 assisted in my winning many a tenner on the lottery. Just write.
My past has shaped me as much as the next person, and it visits me every day in the same manner as that of Marley to Scrooge. My future is a dark path of which I step onto each day. My present, well, it is what it is. And so, I propose to share all three of these. My past: the haunting memories and dreams left undreamt. My present. My future: the dreams of yet to come.
I am Nix and this is Nixtolgia.
Happy New Year.
Nixtolgia 