chicken.

I am a chicken.

I am a chicken because I constantly think I have nothing to say, or don't feel much, but that is rubbish. I am just a chicken, blessed with an inherent problem with saying what I feel. Both to other people and myself. My blog will never be the best read, because I will never be able to say what is it that I really want. Because if I would say what is really my poor heart's desire I would be faced with people knowing when I fail. And failure will not do, you see.

So therefore, I am a chicken.

And you will never know what I want or aspire to. At least not in writing. Even though a blog can be deleted, knowing that I would have to delete my once-so-fine aspirations is mortifying. And therefore, no confessions, no plans. No fuck all. Just comments, on something.

I admire all of you, I really do - the people who are able to say: "I want to be A, B or C". So there you have it, my admiration. And I think one day I might want to be like you.

Until that day, I will carry on being a chicken. A chicken full on hopes and admirations and dreams, big, big ambitions. But for now, my cat will serve as the keeper of all secrets.

With love,

Your Chicken.