I haven’t been updating as often as I ought. There are several reasons for this:
Reason the first: My practice of keeping several physical journals makes this practice less important as the utter and entire self-reflection possible for me in a physical journal that nobody else is going to see until after I’m dead is not something I can manage precisely in this journal. There are some people I know and have known who manage to take their bad business onto the internet unmitigated by any of the numerous factors that stop me from doing the same. I don’t know if I envy that or not.
Reason the second: I have been busy doing schoolwork, writing up my novel, annotating the novel I am to write after this one (both of which have no connection to each other), learning to be a better guitarist and spending time with people outside of all this. Plus when it comes down to the end of the day blogging, although I have more people watching this than I thought, is the last priority.
Reason the third: In addition to this sort of busy schedule, I find that recent life drama, the kind that I will not go into here because of what was mentioned in reason the first, has made it frustrating to even think about the social aspect of the internet.
Reason the fourth: I am concerned some motherfuckers are simply too lazy to read any post of substantive length.
That’s why I haven’t been blogging.
In happier news this weekend is that of Leah’s birthday and you must all await the festive explosion of joy that comes with her turning twenty one. I have her gifts, an acoustic guitar in hand and the steady knowledge that I am using vacation days so that I might spend the entire weekend with her, and get paid to do it. This is certainly cause for great joy.
In case you actually give a fuck, my novel continues well, despite having to put it on hold this week to study for three exams. I am looking forward to the uphill struggle to get this, among other works, very published and hopefully make a living doing this. People do it and I will be counted among those people. Difficult though I know it will be, I remain optimistic that my works will see print and sell well enough to make me happy. Although it really amuses me (read: Makes me want to bash faces in) when people hear about my artistic dreams and tell me it’s hard or that it might not work out the way I want it to. People like this are why I feel hatred.
"Although it really amuses me (read: Makes me want to bash faces in) when people hear about my artistic dreams and tell me it’s hard or that it might not work out the way I want it to. People like this are why I feel hatred."
That, sir, is why we are friends. I don't know if you saw the shit storm on my own journal because I wanted to go look at a fucking house, but holy fuck, why can't people just mind their own business? Why do they feel the need to spread doom and gloom all over the fucking place just because THEY don't have the balls to dream and actually achieve something! I mean, really!