I need to read, and write
Sometimes now I feel that my vocabulary has become boring and limited, my expressions drawn from the same uninspired pool of canned phrases, my writing increasingly matter-of-fact and certainly less varied. That's what happens when your reading diet consists of too much non-fiction and (in particular military) journals, or when you cease to write anything that remotely requires creative description. Perhaps this insidious transformation of my writing style was effected by GP, perhaps it comes courtesy of the army. Perhaps it's the cessation of my formal education in English and Literature at the conclusion of my secondary school days. Either way, I'd like to return to the days when language was for me an artist's brush, not a worker's tool; when I could project the larger-than-life world of colourful imagery in my head to ink on paper without losing or even subconsciously stripping away the glorious details.