I believe all our lives writers have feared the blank page. It’s an endless void that dares us to fill it up. With words. With ideas. With pictures. With examples. With anecdotes. With stories. With experiences. With memories. With USPs. With propositions. With bullet points. With desires. With taunts. With lures… the list like the blank page is endless.
All the rants and raves from a brain that has endured decades of anthropological abuse.