The time the troll came and I ran away

So last year I had decided to get back into a bit of creative writing here on the old blog. The bloggety-boo. The old bloggety-boo… And then one day, some old mate came and wrote some things that made me feel really uncomfortable and gave me a personal reminder that the internet is a place that perhaps people like me shouldn’t share stuff. I mean who the hell am I right? What right do I have to be here? And why the hell do I do this?

I don’t know the answer to any of that stuff. I do know I like to write. I do know that a few of you guys like to read what I write. And as I was told many years ago by one of the blogging greats, Pip Lincoln, write as though you are writing to your one very favourite person and what you write will be lovely.

So I’ve been thinking and I find myself back here. I’m fucking small fry as far as the internet goes and have no plans to become a big fish. So I will just hope old mate or his other mates (it was a man, or a woman pretending to be a man) don’t find me and I can get on with my pollyanna existence on the interwebs.

Ever been trolled? Did it make you super uncomfortable?

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