Day 1: my blog title explained…

Hello fellow nutballs…welcome to day 1 of this exciting challenge that I for some unknown reason decided to accept. Why am I putting myself through this?? Oh yeah, cuz in order to be considered a writer, I apparently, must write! So far I’ve been able to get by, with very little effort. Which is how I personally enjoy doing things. The less effort I have to put into something, the better! I mean, I’ve met people, they’ve asked me what I do for a living, I tell them I’m a writer. It was grand! Life as a “writer” was awesome…until one day someone asked me what I’ve written and they wanted to read my work. Yeah. That backfired real quick, but it was fun while it lasted. I did learn something from it though, I learned that I really enjoy being a writer, which is why I am now inspired to actually write. Enough of this though, lets explain my blog title.
From the Nuthouse, With Love started off as a vision, I feel weird saying that because I’ve never explained the meaning of this blog before , but its true. When I first decided I wanted to start my own blog a mental picture formed in my head of myself locked up in a mental institution. There were no doctors in this institution and I was the only patient. Basically it was a white room, there was a window, but it was white as well.  I was dressed in all white but not like a gown or anything, just a white tank top, white shorts and white ankle socks. No shoes. I thought it was a really weird vision I was having because I would never actually wear all white. I feel like it makes me oh so very visible, like there’s some sort of light shining over me, inviting everyone to come and watch what I’m doing. So, that was pretty disturbing. In this room I had a table and a chair and they were brown, I hate the colour brown so this must have been some form of torture technique put there by apparently no one because it didn’t seem like anyone was running this place.
On this table and chair was a pencil with a dull lead, with a completely worn out eraser on top and blank sheets of paper. It wasn’t even lined paper! Another torture technique perhaps, every line I would write slanted, it was horrible.
So I’m sitting at this disgusting brown desk, writing with my dull pencil, being careful not to make any mistakes on my blank paper, getting annoyed because my lines arent straight. My hair is all dishevelled because I do make mistakes when I write and I grab my hair when I get frustrated with those mistakes. I’m writing, frantically, constantly. Writing letters to my family, my friends, my foes. Writing about myself, about work and anything under the sun. Funnily enough wrist never hurt, and it looked as though I’ve been writing for at least 3 years straight. Each piece that I wrote in this place, was always signed  with “From the Nuthouse, With Love”. I thought that was a super cute way of signing my work, and so that became the name of my blog
Now people everywhere will know that when they read anything posted here they can picture the above scenario, and know that even though my thoughts and ideas are crazy, they come from a passionate place. That’s pretty much the whole story. I hope you enjoyed your stay, please come again.

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