I'm making my comeback - ungraciously
[Cue somber music]
[Enter Zipporah with longer hair. Hanging head]
I think? I guess I am? Oh, go on then…
Not like the other time that I briefly poked my head out of the proverbial stupour that is student life, or the time before that and got sick. This is Zipporah Gene 2.0.
I’m nearly finished with my masters, about to qualify as a fully fledged journo and fled London like my life depended on it (it actually did).
I’m a year wiser, full of life again, and with a few ghastly experiences under my belt, I can safely say that I’m fighting harder than ever before, against my writer’s block.
Or will she?
I can’t blame people for doubting me, but I’ve decided to write for me and me alone.
There, I said it.
All that pressure I mounted on myself to produce work worthy of magazines and newspapers burned me out. I burned out. So, now I don’t care who’s reading, who’s watching, I’m taking to the keyboard as my very own form of therapy. It’s cathartic and I love it.
I’m saying this, but after a brief scroll through my phone, I’ve just realised that I have a whole 30GB of photos, videos that I took with the intention of sharing.
Who’s up for a few trips down memory lane?