Hey, it’s never too late to continue a serial that you began to post 8 months ago on a blog that you had forgotten you even kept until you–literally–chanced upon your WordPress account while searching for a recipe on another blog that is completely unrelated to yours, right? It doesn’t matter that you actually wrote the whole long series of posts that you never posted, literally, 2 years ago, right? Sometimes the inspiration to post just seizes you, once in a while–or, more precisely, every few years. What does it matter, this is my blog, after all, and I write the rules here. Following is the second part of a bunch of long-winded monologues meandering through all flavors of dross, from heavy-hearted anxiety attacks to Henry VIII of England. See Part I for some context. Though, “context” may be a bit generous to use for a descriptor, given my idiopathic style of writing: Continue reading
After about 3 months of avoiding my blog, I finally decided, while avoiding my daily responsibilities, to just hold my breath and return to take a look at the neglected landscape. When I signed in, I found the below pending comment on my dashboard:
I discovered your blog while googling about underachieving, and you have inspired me to go ahead with starting a blog. I didn’t think people actually blogged like regular literature authors and always felt I lacked in edgy hipness, but after reading all of your poetic posts, I feel like I may have fellow anti- conformist bloggers to relate to after all. -Bessie Malt
I originally began writing a reply to your comment, Bessie, in the comment section where you’re supposed to write replies to comments. But as is typical for me, my reply became longer and longer and I kept writing and couldn’t cut off the spigot and had no desire to anyway. So I ultimately drafted a 683-word response and decided to post it as a blog entry in itself. Continue reading
What, I go MIA for 6 weeks and then return to find that half my followers have abandoned me?! Oh, thanks for the loyalty, thanks for sticking around through the hard times, guys (!!).
At 1:21 am on the cusp of my article deadline I decide to take a break from my as-of-yet blank document and browse through Jean Paul Sartre’s Blog on the New Yorker (ghost written by Bill Barol): Despair couldn’t be more hysterical. It makes me wonder what would have become of Sartre–and the entire Existentialist movement–if he had lived after Prozac had been introduced.
I’ll conveniently avoid any intelligent commentary and get back to not writing.
Half the stuff on this blog is a result of what I produced when I was actually trying to write something else. Something more important and writerly. Like, full sentences and stuff. This happened again today while I undertook to confront the two pieces that remain half-written in my writer’s block queue (and there are still several more ideas in the queue that I haven’t even began). That is, I ended up writing nonsensical gobbledygook while I was trying to write the real stuff. Continue reading
You might have noticed—and you didn’t, because no one reads this blog—but I had a crisis of the blogging spirit and went AWOL for the last few weeks. I had a pseudo-destructive impulse and took my blog offline (To be fair, if it were a truly destructive impulse, I would have completely deleted the blog). It was the result of an ongoing case of Blogger’s Block, and of the disturbing fact that after writing and posting three shitty blog entries, I still derive absolutely no pleasure or inspiration from writing for every Googler and WordPress-er to see. And, this fact is in turn derived from my tendency to constantly remember the reasons why I make a Really Shitty Blogger, whenever I consider writing a blog entry. The reasons are qualities about me and particularly my writing style that affront every sacramental principle of the present-day blogosphere. In particular, Continue reading