Language As A Reminder Of My Limits

In my first post I mentioned that, prior to starting theunconventionalist, I had all but sworn off the discipline of regular writing because I thought I had too much to say - and too much of it was junk. When faced with either the monumental task of shifting through the chaff for the wheat or the unattainable task of churning out written records of my thoughts faster than my brain could churn out junk I chose the written mute. But there was another, more pertinent, reason I was wary of writing - one more rooted in fear than sloth.