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I find that...

I find that my writing exercises have taken a garish almost sordid turn. I find myself writing about suicide, pedophilia, serial killers, brains being blown out and general smuttiness. I realize that at one time I was on a first name basis with many of the perverts in my county back in the days that I was doing sexual abuse investigations but really I would think that time would put some distance between what I thought and what I now think. It is daunting to say the least.

I do think that there is a place for this kind of writing...the words of the victims and those who victimize them or there would be no crime dramas being read and they are read voraciously. I am just surprised that this is where my mind goes. I have been a reader of modern literature, the classics and chick lit. Rather light reading for someone who can calmly describe the evisceration of a bad guy by a vigilante.

All I can say is that for so long the words have been locked away in my brain tormenting me and now I can let them flow freely so I am not going to worry too much about the torrid words that fly from my fingertips. I have things to say and I must say them so that I can finally be free of the miasma that has clogged my memory channels for so long. Freedom is a good thing even if it does reek of moral turpitude and depravity.

Ciao!

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White Trash Foot
ardeeeichelmann
ardeeeichelmann

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