I've been thinking a lot about this blog recently. I enjoy writing about my dating life. I enjoy writing period. I articulate my thoughts best when I write them out first, developing my voice somewhere in the midst of the editing process.
When speaking in public, I always rely heavily on a written script. Don't get me wrong, I think the delivery is also important, but that's a performance. It's the meat, the substance that truly captures my interest.
I've had the worst case of writer's block the last few weeks. Two drafts have been sitting in my post listing for about a month now. I curse them every time I glimpse over and see the word draft beside the title. I've come to the conclusion that the reason these two posts have never gone anywhere is because I'm not really in love with the stories they tell.
So, while the story of Fat, Sloppy, Mean, One-Minute Marc may be entertaining for some, I am sorry to say that this post will be placed on the backburner for now.
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