Writer's block...

So the idea that I've got writers block doesn't really hold water. I'm not a writer. I like the idea of being a writer. I like the idea of not having leave my flat to go to work. That I could stay home, listen to the Stern Show, look at porn and drink coffee. And at some point in the day write something and get paid for it.

I remember stuff.

And there's stuff I can never remember. I can't remember my own mobile number but I can remember being a toddler, waking up in the middle of the night screaming after a bad dream, rattling the bars of my cot as my mum ran upstairs to comfort me. I must have been about three years old.

That's my earliest memory. I remember the dark alcove that my cot was pushed into, in my parents bedroom. I can remember the unusual purple color wallpaper they had , it was that wood-chip stuff, that was popular in the 70's and 80's with people with no money.

I remember day dreaming about being a writer too. From the age of 16 I've wanted to 'be a writer'. I'm 30-something now and I'm still dreaming. So the purpose of this blog is for me to write, right. Just write, type, think and write.

My dreams are small, and sometimes they keep me awake.