Bennet Rush

I have never tried to write anything of substance. I don’t seem to possess that skill. And it is a skill. My vocabulary grows smaller each year I am out of school and chemo brain is as bad as everyone told me it would be. I struggle to carry on an intelligent conversation and it’s a mystery why I can remember some words and not others. My fiancé wins every argument since I am now too slow with the quick comeback. Its depressing. Thank god I don’t need to be wordy at work. Simple sentences and short answers are welcomed with open arms. Whew.

So even with all my struggles, I can’t NOT write. (I wonder is anyone is going to point out that double negative).

There is so much going on in the US, and the world, that I need an outlet to get things off my mind. Yes, I talk about things with my fiancé, but I feel like my point of view on things needs to be available to anyone out there that may be looking for someone else perspective on things. I am not writing this with any audience in mind. I have no clue if anyone will ever see any of this. But writing my thoughts down actually makes me feel better. I’ve never been a paper journal kind of person. I love buying them, with all the colorful lined pages with little pictures in the corner. Decorative cardboard covers, leather covers with old antiquey looking paper. I’ll be gung ho for a few days, but inevitably I will Peter off and every journal languishes on the shelves of my bedroom, or worse, stored in a clear plastic bin under my bed. Only to be found and read after I die.

So I would like to introduce myself to the world. I am Bennet Rush. And I cannot write. But I’ll be back.