I'm sitting here staring at this empty white text box. The little blinky cursor stares back, mocking me. "Yeh exactly jackass, where do you start?"
The truth is, I've been lost in a swirling, drowning sea of life happeningness for several months now. I can no more decide how to start blogging again than make heads or tails of 2011 as a whole (although yet uncompleted)
Right now I can barely tell the difference between my ass and which way is up. And that's only because one of them itches.
So I'm sitting here, having my little mexican stand off with the dickish little blinky cursor. Should I start blogging about the beginning of my month long trek through Bali? Given the speed at which life is rushing past faster than I can type I might be 60 years old by the time I catch up to current events.
Maybe I should just jump into the middle the Bali trip, hop around on topics. Lots of Bali keywords and labels might help build back some of my readership, which has made a veritable art form of steady decline lately. If my blog was a comic book villian it'd be "The Dwindler".
In reality, it doesn't matter all that much. There's really nothing like a heaping, steaming, pile of life experience to make you realize how pointless all your angst over increased website traffic is. Not to mention how meaningless writing a blog is. Existentially speaking.
Don't get me wrong and think that I don't value blogging. I think blogging is the future, the next communication leap. News papers are bullshit, we all know that (or should). The only free press is written by unpaid writers these days, everything else is just entertainment churned out to control you and distract you from what's really going on.
Where was I? Oh yeah existential crisis. So writing has a lot of value. But you have to assume that even Shakespeare and Dickens would place the
living of life above writing about it. Is it better to write a love story, or fall in love?
So I've been away, wading through the chaos of life. With all it's mind boggling, gut wrenching, heart breaking, wild and uncontrollable beauty. I've been out on the fringe. The moments where you get tested. The questions that determine where you will be years down the road. The situations that let you define who you really are when the chips are down.
I always wondered what I was made of when it counted and I have to say, when push came to shove, I'm pretty satisfied with the man I turned out to be. I do need to go get some more extensive first aid training though. And buy an inflatable neck brace.
For now, I'll update my little blog when I have time and wait for things to finally settle down so I can kick my boots off and stop living like a nomad.
I don't know if I'm close to popping out the other side, but I think I see a peaceful, routine filled light at the end of the tunnel. Let's hope it's not a train...
