Puddles of Consciousness

Well here I am then: belatedly pushing myself out of the binary womb i've grown all too comfortable in. No longer sat in my bubble, listening to the Bloggery of you clever people, consuming, eavesdropping, lurking but never proffering a response.

Here I am. Naked, vulnerable, pink and moist. Too shocked to cough yet, let alone scream.

So come on then: Come and snip the umbilical; Come and turn me in your arms; Smile at my overwhelmed face; Smooth away my uncertainty.

THEN SMACK MY ARSE AND TELL ME TO GET ON WITH IT!

I decided to come out (as it were) in response to a moving post by my friend Trousers. And also because the humour in my faux-petulant pronouncements of "oooh I suppose you're going to spend time with your Virtual friends again" each time we were together and veered into the vicinity of a computer was wearing thin. Like an over-chewed stick of Wrigleys.

I had intended to establish the theme of my Blog-presence as "Stream of Consciousness", but this sounds far too grandiose. So on reflection, puddles of consciousness seems more fitting. As I lack both the intellectual rigour and dedication of you serious Blogites (or whatever the vernacular is) I promise to spew out my unrefined musings periodically and encourage you to respond to them as you seem fit.

In the meantime, be gentle with me. I'm not yet on solids.