writers block

At the risk of being a prolific blogger, I have left a little time between posts. Maybe eight months is a tad cautious, but I dont want to get hooked, me having shown signs of obsessive tendancies in the past. I am going to attribute it to writers block ( rather than laziness) as that sounds a little more creative.
Actually faced with relaying the trials and tribulations of my life to an uncertain readership filled me with a certain angst. What if I poured the innermost details of my day to day life into cyberspace, and no one was there to read it and say "there, there". No, I thought, write the initial post, sit back and bask in the admiration of the waiting masses, people on whose happiness depends on reading my thoughts, people who are just waiting for the latest installment of the soap opera that is my life, people who want to empathise, and sympathise, and fall at my preverbial feet........people? ........................anybody?
And so thats what happenned. I posted my first pithy bit of prose, launched it in to the world and it hasnt landed yet!
I bought a balloon once, in one of those" whose balloon goes the furthest wins the prize" competition at the local school fete, mine scagged on the corner of the release net and never fulfilled its ambition - to fly across continents, touching the hearts of those onlookers that glanced heavenwards as it passed, willing it to fulfil its destiny, its reason for being, its ultimate prize (the £50 trolleydash through the mums who go to Iceland for me). I know now how that little balloon felt, scagged on the release net, my first blog post in its pocket so to speak!