It seems like more and more people are thinking outside the box, these days. It may or may not always manifest in professional behavior, but overall I still think it’s good for the world.
Last night I couldn’t sleep and got up to write. I finished a blog that started with the last few paragraphs of this one, and promptly lost it to a faulty internet connection and lack of copy & paste common sense. So here I go again… I wrote last night about how I couldn’t sleep and how frustrated I was with my own mwntal limitations.
I’ve imposed these guidelines on myself for this blog, and anymore it seems I let one inspiration after another pass me by because it doesn’t fit the online persona I have imagined myself building.
More than ten years ago, I blogged from the heart. Sometimes multiple posts a day, just because I had a thought I wanted to share or at least write down. I honestly think I had more readers on Livejournal, without my own dedicated domain, than I do today. So who cares if my posts are relevant to specific readers or whether I have a decent picture to go with my blog?
From now on, I write regardless. No holds barred (or at least relatively few) and whenever I feel like it.
I’ve been realizing that I’m getting old. Lately, I look at teenagers and they seem alien to me. Sometimes I feel as if I can relate to their awkwardness, their feigned superiority and even some of their dejected responses to a world they really feel they’ve got little stake in. Other times I realize that the world they have developed in is breathtakingly different than what I experienced at that age.
They will never remember a time when none of the neighbors owned a computer. Most of them will never be dragged on a road trip with their parents and without a handheld internet device to keep them on-grid and entertained. Maybe I should feel a little grateful.
My isolation as a child drove me to read and find entertainment where I could. The introspection that still makes me feel ill at ease in social situations has also been my relief when the outside world becomes too much to bear. I miss it sometimes, and recall with amusement the raging boredom I struggled with.
I guess the point off all this half-remembered nonsense is that I’ve been wandering off the literary track for too long. I still don’t know if I’m capable of producing anything with my children at home (doubtful) but school starts soon. Charlie is almost ready for playschool and I have been ready to move forward toward anything for longer than I can remember.
From now on I write for me. You’re still welcome toread and comment, though. =)
