The best blog posts come to me when I am too far from the computer. The words flow together as I put the kids to sleep, sentences form when I’m walking in the streets. Once I sit down in front of the PC, my fingers hover over the keyboards as if frozen; the words have disappeared.

I am at my best when I am alone in my thoughts. Inside my head, I am everything I want to be. My imagination runs free, and I become everything I am not.

Maybe that’s the real me, the one in my imagination, and this person who stand before you is a fake. An impostor set to defame my character.

I have posts about my fears of success, coming to terms with my beliefs and even a series of short stories. But I have nothing to say; it’s all in my head.