Well, it's happened again. I have allowed the blog to be silent for long enough that only the hardest of the hardcore readers are still here. I can see them warming their hands over the flickering light of a burning oil drum, waiting for some kind of light to return to this darkened back alley of the internet. They try to cheer each other with retellings of the better days, when posts flowed like water and I was witty and urbane. They pry open a tin of beans to share, and eat with their eyes focused in the temporal middle-distance; they see either the hoped-for future or the longed-for past, I can't tell which.
That's right - I just reduced my loyal readers to the hobo citizenry of a tent city. Such is the long, dark night of the blogger's soul. I'm in the dreaded process of trying to figure out what this blog is about again. 
I could tell you about school, but student angst is overdone.
I could write about the women I love, but that garners a sort of sympathy that I don't deserve.
I could write about politics, but that's being done by others, and so much better than I would ever care to do it.
I could go back to creating stories about the people I see in the computer labs, but I don't work the weird shifts anymore, and the really interesting characters only come out in the wee hours of the morning.
I could expound on my social theory, but I don't want to end up like Nietzsche; spending the final years of my life as an invalid in the care of my sister sounds crappy.
I could rant about animal rights issues, and make the readers hate me for shoving veganism down their throats, but I'm just not veganazi enough for that.
I could turn this into the Ajax, Imelda, and Gandalf show, but there are enough revoltingly cute pet blogs.
I could talk about my spiritual journey, but that implies some kind of peace, of which I have none.
Perhaps I'll just go back to the beginning, back to the Il Penseroso days. Back to just writing whatever pops into my head. Maybe it doesn't need a common thread of any kind, or maybe the common thread is just that it's written by me.
Throw another bundle of trash in the oil drum. It's going to be a long night.
No One Reads This Anymore
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12 comments:
I think you're stressing over nothing, stud. You have readers. Lack of comments doesn't mean nobody's reading. Start of school, sicknesses, life...and you're asking lofty, deep questions. Putting too much pressure on yourself. Inhale. (Stop coughing.) Exhale. (Stop coughing again.) Relax. :)
I echo Nurse Jim's comment. Be well my friend.
so ... in the list of "i coulds" you mention that talking about your spiritual journey implies a sense of peace - i don't think that this is true... unless it is a peace with fact that you are on a journey, you are searching - if the peace is connected to a sense of knowing it is a false peace and a false knowledge... all faith is dynamic, so peace, in most senses of the word, does not go well with it...
that said, i will try to comment more on whatever you write...
=)
I think you should write about whatever is on yuor mind... who cares if someone is offended by your animal protests or your veganism this is your blog buster and that means you put what YOU wan to put in it. I also agree with Fleur about your spiritual journey.
I will also try to be more reliable and expicit with the commenting!!! :)
ya know it would be more like a personal blog if you just write what pops into your head at the moment. i think that's what we want to hear. save the severe threads for BV.
too much pressure to write something meaningful is harsh.
chillax, have fun.
(all grammatical and capitalization errors completely intended)
I'm not looking for a higher comment count - I was remarking on how shitty the content on here has been of late... I haven't written anything worth reading in a long time.
Thanks for the suggestions - I'll see about trying to post less drivel.
i want more of what you consider drivel from you.
*le sigh*
one pope's drivel is another fangirl's treasure.
Whatever your topic of the moment, it is the glimpses of my friend, the echoes of past conversations and the feeling that as I read it we could be sitting down over a cup of chai with the same words flowing... that's what brings me to your writing. You.
Mischief is sweet and poetic. correct as well.
i also left you something on my blog when you have a chance you can check it out.
I'm going to avoid taking this opportunity to point out that you are giving your loyal readers nothing to discuss or post about. Nope not going to take that opportunity at all. Nu-uh.
;)
lol just keep doing what you're doing - we all seem to be enjoying it :)
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