Sales Copy of As I Lay Waiting: As An After Thought
Dear readers and friends, On this mid-October day, I sat down to do what I love more than a lot of other things in life-writing. Although what I was penning down presently was “just” a sales copy, I still enjoyed the music of keys being pressed following the strings of thought in my head. I felt like I was back in an old art gallery where every painting was once familiar in all its beautiful subtlety. Sorry, I just had the realization that this was not how a sales copy should begin. So here is the truth: I have lost some of the techniques of my craft to time. Unused, every craft, every tool, and every intellectual muscle would wear away, sag, and finally rot. It was too painful to acknowledge the fact that I had lost some of my skills to time. That meant I was ageing. It wouldn’t do if I stood where I was. So I decided to move on. Here goes, dragging his feet, a new man with his old soul in a gunny sack on his shoulders. Pain, everywhere I see pain. A hurt ego aches m...