29 May 2013

After some consideration, I have decided to bid you farewell dear diary. I could have continued to record the minutiae of my life, to document my struggles with life, but what would be the point?

I started to write as a cathartic exercise. For that I thank you. You have been all I needed and more. After a while I harboured thoughts that I might turn you into a book, but my half-hearted attempts only succeeded in attracting vanity publishers, who would publish a cheese sandwich if it was willing to pay. 

I could carry on writing about having regained some sensitivity in my fingers, but it's all mundane.