Someone recently very kindly pointed out to me that blogs occasionally contain some personal information about the author and their daily lives. This voyeuristic quality apparently makes it fun to quietly watch them go about their business while getting a peek into their brain.
This of course was a nice but passive aggressive way to let me know that me and my life are not at all present in the things I write.
Sure, occasionally I like to fume over the mindless jaywalker who stepped into oncoming traffic while I was on the road or reveal the horrifying incident at the Chipotle that took place only hours after my young son learned that ladies did in fact have vaginas instead of wieners but for the most part I leave my day-to-day happenings at the doormat when I step over the WordPress threshold.
After so many years of working diligently to not be vulnerable, needy or a pain in somebody elses ass, I’d almost forgotten how brilliant it is to see a person write something stripped down and bare enough that it makes them look completely human.
I’m not exactly sure when vulnerability and truth fell so out of fashion in my mind but there are days when all this autonomous droning about impersonal subjects and flaunting my “independence” gets tedious.
To exert so much energy in opposition to what I really feel at times is exhausting. It’s a struggle that results in exactly what I don’t want.
More isolation.Less warmth.
Since I am slow to absorb the most basic changes in routine, I’ll need to marinate in this sea of change for a few hours before I can produce a worthwhile post on the terrible new development of vagrants shitting in my garage.
Seriously. It’s either a guy without access to indoor plumbing, an urban Yeti or a bear that’s escaped from the zoo.
Filed under a screw loose, adversity, am I doing anything right?, Back to basics, bad writing about nothing, buffoonery, crap shack, crazy ramblings, do this for me, do you really have the time to read about my life, don't destroy my dreams, don't take a crap in my garage please, excuses, foul language in preschool, getting it together, good smells bad smells, hidden grammar errors and bad writing, hole in my life, I can't spell, I can't end a story OR a blog post, I complain too much, I enjoy being inferior, i like to pretend, I need to get an original thought, I run fast, i said it was uncategorizable, I'm a hack, I'm a jerk!, I'm all over the map, make it more personal
Every so often, people stop me on the street and ask “what is it that makes you tick?” then just as I’m about to answer I realize that although I was once a person of substantial promise, I no longer hold this distinct title and am forced to slink off into the night still feeling the sucker punch of truth in my gut.
I remember a night not too long ago where I tried to recapture my lost glory while demonstrating a superior knowledge of all things in an off kilter yet charmingly unpretentious manner and not one fucking soul was buying it.
Finally I started introducing myself like a press release written for the recently washed up “Hi, I’m Kelly and you may remember me from my past attempts at hilarity *here” and *there* or perhaps the time I tried to grab for something more meaningful and fell embarrassingly short? No? Okay, well I’m off to see about that Dim Sum table everyone’s been raving about“
I had high hopes for my return but I find myself shuffling in here like a petulant teenager being told to clean up her act, her room and her life.
No words seem adequate to describe how disappointed I am in the quality of my output and the considerable lack of effort. Clearly it would be easier if someone would just take a sledgehammer to my back causing my chest cavity to explode catapulting my heart muscle out of my body and all over my keyboard.
Even with the bloody goo tangled mess it would probably be easier to understand that sentiment than this never-ending drivel.
So here I am with a seemingly preposterous half-baked return to form promising you that I will do better tomorrow.