NOSTALGIA IS A WEAPON

For months now I’ve had this gigantic pile of books sitting on my desk, completely untouched and gathering dust. At some point I discovered that they were talking to me. Every so often I’d look over at that stack and hear a voice encouraging me to get off my ass and pick one up, but I’ve been ignoring that suggestion. They were quiet at first, and easy to ignore. Recently, however, they’ve become much more insistent.

Come on, man, what else do you have to do? You’re gonna sit there on the internet for six hours AGAIN? What a fucking loser you’ve become. You used to love to read. We’ll accept the excuse that being in school gave you little time for pleasure reading, but it’s been TWO YEARS since you’ve been in school, mister, and have you done a SINGLE THING to continue that “betterment of self” you claim to be so fucking devoted to? You’re not in school, you’re not taking piano lessons, and now you’re not even dating anyone, so please, either do something with us or give us to someone who will actually appreciate what we’re worth.

So last week I finally picked one up. It’s been ages since I’ve flown through a book that quickly. I’d forgotten how writing could be that fucking good, how it could be so satisfying to tear through the pages, feeling increasingly excited with every passing sentence.

So today I picked up another one from the pile. If my pace continues, I’ll be finished with it by bedtime tonight. It feels wonderful to rediscover an old love, to feel that surge of passion, to feel grateful for having been able to spend a few hours doing something that truly makes me feel alive.

This feels like a small, but first step in regaining my sense of self. Now if I can only find some drive to get out of the house…

as for all your cares
put them in the air and I’ll breathe in
until you tell me “no”

-Denison Witmer, “East From West”

So, I have been a very bad blogger. I know this. I apologize to the one, maybe two of you who still check this thing. As I’ve mentioned before, I just haven’t been in the mood to write about myself. I somehow thought that was going to be a short-lived phase, but now it’s six months later, and I hardly remember this place exists anymore. This used to mean something to me, writing out my thoughts, getting feedback from you guys. Rereading some of my old posts, I realized two things:

1. I am a terrible writer.
2. I really miss being here.

With the latter thought in mind, I’m going to attempt to resurrect this journal. I’m not sure if I’m going to be as publicly open with some things as I have before (upon review, there are already something things on here that need to be locked), but that’s what private entries are for, and I think everyone here is already set up to see those, should they choose (for anyone who can’t, let me know and I’ll fix that- there’s a recent one if you want to check).

That’s mostly it for now. For those interested in the short version, life is actually pretty okay right now. I’ll get into a greater detail once I get back into the swing of this thing.

I hope all of you are doing okay. Even though I haven’t been posting here, I’ve been keeping up with all you guys’ blogs on a daily basis. Sorry for the silence of late.