or breaking up with my blog
Okay, so five years ago when I started this online journal, I was full of enthusiasm, excitement and so very much to share. After years of being textually mute, the flood gates opened and thoughts, observations and stories gushed forth like a proverbial flood tide. It was effortless. And it was awesome.
Sometimes I could pen multiple posts in one day. Rare, yes, but it happened. The process was exhilarating and the results were for the most part none too shabby. I made some readers laugh. I made some readers cry. I made many readers, okay all three of you including Geo, who has since bailed on this blog, not that I blame him or am bitter because seriously, the quality of this shite has been deteriorating faster than a True Blood Vamp baking in the sun, but then again, maybe I AM bitter because isn't that part of the vows we took back in the era of big 80s hair and shoulder pads...to have, to hold, to stick by and support your spouse's hair-brained, gin-soaked (vodka-soaked just doesn't have the same poetic ring somehow, even thought THAT'S my firewater of choice) delusion of writing no matter how inept or embarrassing the overshare. Jerk.
But mainly I fulfilled some need inside of me to cut the lock off my creativity's cage and spread my story-telling wings.
It worked out well for a while. I had a blast weaving yarns, but now, not so much. My heart doesn't seem to be in it anymore. Slogging along, churning out hack work even I can't stomach, however infrequently, just isn't fair to my reader or fulfilling to me. I'm in a slump that I'm having difficulty climbing out of. So, I must break up with this blog. Take a break, as it were.
Blog: Wait.. a break? Haven't we BEEN on a break?
Me: I know it's sudden...
Blog: Sudden? You've been avoiding me for months.
Me: I know, it's not you. It's me.
Blog: Oh, boo hoo. Don't hand me that crap.
Me: No really.You've been great. Always waiting patiently for me, but I just can't commit like before. I'll still drop by from time to time. I just need some time to regroup and to read more. I would like to remain friends.
Blog: I can't believe you dropped the f-word on me!!?! After everything we've been through!
Me: I'll bring you candy...
Me: and girly mags...
Blog: Oh, I can't stay mad at you. Throw in some cigars and you you've got yourself a deal.
So, apparently my blog is a male who has a sweet spot for candy, Cohibas and... porn? Whaaaa?
OH GOOD GOD! THIS IS BORING EVEN ME!
In order to be a better writer, one has to read. A lot. I haven't been reading AT ALL, and this blog has been suffering because of it. I can feel my vocabulary, as primitive as it is, pooling at my feet. Pretty soon I'll be back to primer stage.
See Dick run.
Run, Dick, run... to the County Building to change your fucking name. Jesus! Your parents should be slapped for branding you with that hideous, wedgy-inciting moniker in the first place. Sadistic assholes.
Aaaanywho, I'm planning (read hoping) to pen a recap of concerts and travels from 2013 just so my addled mind can remember the spectacular parts of last year, but after that, I make no promises except to not waste your time or Google's valuable server space.
The truth is I miss writing. The thrill of ideas pouring forth faster than my fingers can type. The satisfaction of articulating antidotes around every day antics. Excessive use of alliteration. It has been a pleasure oversharing my bidnez all up in the interwebs the past five years.
Once upon a time, I could weave a colorful yarn. I'm hoping a spark reignites the passion I once felt, but until then, please enjoy a hot towel.